


Semiautomagic

by Cala



Series: Semiautomagic AU [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Community: spn_j2_bigbang, Dresden Files Fusion, M/M, wizard!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-01
Updated: 2010-08-01
Packaged: 2017-10-10 21:34:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/104549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cala/pseuds/Cala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Chris Kane, detective with the Special Investigations Unit, asks Jensen to consult on a gruesome murder case, Jensen doesn't know what he's getting himself into. Within days he has to find the killer, solve the case and try to stay alive, as apparently more than one powerful creature is interested in the outcome of this case. Or rather with the case never being solved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Semiautomagic

_My name is Jensen Ackles and I'm a wizard. No, seriously._

Just to make it clear, I'm not talking sparkly, fuzzy Harry Potter stuff. I mean standing in the freezing cold, resisting psychic attacks from a demon who's testing the wards on the protective circle around it. I mean spending hours going through sewers trying to find a dumping ground Red Court vampires have been using. I'm talking trying not to throw up and contaminate a crime scene when NYPD calls you in to confirm whether or not they really have a werewolf on their hands.

Sometimes I wish it was all sparkly, fuzzy Harry Potter stuff. But the thing is, I'm a wizard because I don't really know how to do anything else. Magic, finding things, finding people, digging through trash to get to the evil, and there's a lot of evil, protecting my clients.

Hell, I even advertise. Cross my heart. Check the Yellow Pages, I'm right there. Under 'Wizards'. You can't miss it. There's only the one listing.

~*~

It started with the hangover from hell. A skull-splitting, bell-ringing hangover. The one kind you get every time you start drinking on Monday, finish on Friday and then wonder on Saturday whether or not killing yourself would take away the pain. Then, when you decide to try, you realize you can't even move because the pain is just too big.

Jensen's head hurt like that. It made him groan and mutter curses under his breath. He swore he would never touch liquor again even if his life depended on it. The pain was so bad, that shutting his eyes and pulling the covers over his head didn't help. It took his breath away, made it hard to think.

That must be why it took him few minutes to realize that he hadn't had anything alcoholic to drink the night before. In fact, he had been completely sober for the past week; spent trying to track down a rogue sorcerer who thought that New York City was a free for all zone, he could just set up shop and start dealing black magic.

The headache from hell wasn't due to alcohol, and gods did Jensen wish it was. Ruling that out meant that his magic reserves were running dangerously low and his body was making sure he listened this time.

Jensen tended to ignore his body's needs, like food or sleep or the need for any kind of rest when he was on a case. Wasting precious moments for something as irrelevant as his own well being was not something Jensen did. Not when it meant the bad guys would gain even bigger head start.

So when his body crashed from time to time, especially after a big case, like it always had, Jensen always promised himself to take it easy the next time around. To eat a frigging burger every now and then.

When his body crashed because he pushed too hard, like he always did, Jensen promised himself he would take it easier the next time. To eat, to rest. He broke that promise often, there was no resting when the Red Court vampires took a child, and he'd ignored his limits, yet again.

There he was, with barely enough strength to crawl out of bed and into the kitchen. Jensen whispered to himself that everything would be better once he got some coffee into his system.

Coffee was the ultimate answer to everything for Jensen. He was pretty sure that whoever created Earth, did it while sipping espresso. Jensen had no idea what kind of magic there was in those little brown coffee beans, but fuck, it was powerful.

He bravely navigated through the war zone that was his living room, books and potion ingredients lying around, and got to the kitchen. He pushed the button on his coffee maker and investigated the contents of his fridge. The cheese inside looked like it would grow little legs any day now. Which, in a way, was good because Jensen wouldn't have to worry about throwing it out, it would leave on its own at some point.

There was beer and Chinese takeout from two days ago. Jensen didn't want to push his luck and decided not to have any of it for breakfast. He did find some crackers that smelled alright.

The coffee maker announced that the coffee was ready with a loud, high pitched sound. It made Jensen cringe and rub his temple. Too loud, too high pitched. It assaulted his brain like a jock on steroids. God, he hated morning.

Morning hated him right back. Maybe even more than he hated it.

It proved how much it hated Jensen when he was about to take the first sip of his coffee, coffee that would make everything alright again, and his landline started ringing.

Another loud, high pitched tones. Why did he leave the default tones again? Oh yeah, because they were annoying and would get him to get up and answer the damn phone just to make it stop.

Right now, he didn't appreciate that logic.

"Ackles," he said to the receiver, remembering at the very last moment that possible clients had that number. It wouldn't help his bills if he just groaned 'hello' instead of trying to be as business-like as possible.

He thought he sounded like a tortured animal who had just been released from hospital. He grimaced and hoped it wasn't a client calling him.

"Good morning to you too, princess," came a cheerful voice from the other end. Jensen started to regret it wasn't a client on the other end.

"What do you want, Kane? I already told you I mailed that report to you a week ago," he said defensively trying to ignore a half finished report on his kitchen table.

"I don't give a fuck about the report, Jenny. It miraculously appeared on the Captain's desk two days ago. So if it somehow arrives in the mail, there will be some awkward moments in your future. And I don't have to throw mojo around to know that."

Sergeant Chris Kane was Jensen's liaison to the NYPD Special Investigation Unit. SIU had the largest number of unsolved and cold cases in the entire PD. Once you got transferred there, there was very little chance of ever getting a promotion or moving on.

If you asked anyone in Narcotics or Homicide, they would tell you that SIU was a bunch of screw ups and fucktards who had enough pull not to get thrown out of the Force, but couldn't work with any of the divisions.

Jensen never understood how anyone could ever think that when Special Investigations always got the authority to take over a crime scene. Only the feds had more to say about how things went. Maybe it was a way to deal with the fact that nobody ever told SIU how to run things.

Special Investigation Unit took care of all the weird and unexplainable that happened in New York City. It usually meant dealing with vampire attacks, werewolves, sorcerers, demons and anything else that didn't have a nice clean, and above all, explainable label on it. Their job was to find out what happened, stop it from happening again and explain it nicely so that people in charge didn't have a reason to throw the entire Unit into the loony bin.

Even though Jensen hated the authorities, apart from that one day in month when he was getting a paycheck from them, he had to admit that the SIU did hell of a job keeping the streets of New York clean from the evil spawns.

They were doing much better since Jensen joined as a consultant, three years ago.

"What do you want, Kane? And can it wait until I've offed myself?" Jensen asked and rubbed the back of his neck.

"A pony. Or a nice shiny sportscar. Or an Impala. If I'm in your will, feel free to kill yourself right before Christmas. I'd love an early present," came a cheerful response.

"Fuck you," was the most imaginative reply Jensen could come up with.

"In your dreams, Jenny. Now put on some sexy leather, make yourself pretty and get your ass to Central Park before Homicide rips me a new one for putting their investigation on hold while I wait for my boytoy."

Over the years Jensen had become close friends with Kane. And if he repeated that to himself enough times, maybe he'd remember not to kill him when he got to the crime scene.

***

Jensen met Christian Kane the first time when he was tracking down a vampire scourge in Queens. They were vicious and didn't think twice about draining their victims. Fortunately they also didn't pay much attention to covering their tracks, thinking they were invincible just because they belonged to the Black Court.

Morons. They attracted the attention of the White Council, forced the Black Court's silent agreement not to give them sanctuary. The White Council, wanting to test Jensen, or possibly simply get him killed, sent him on the hunt. It was an unpaid one, but he wasn't about to point it out to the most powerful wizards out there.

Those five dead bodies, all drained of blood, caught the attention of New York finest and the cases were soon passed on to the Special Investigation Unit, Sergeant Chris Kane in particular. Their first meeting wasn't among the most fortunate ones. Jensen thought Kane was a vampire, Kane thought Jensen was the murderer he was looking for. So, obviously, in the name of good friendship and future cooperation they nearly killed each other. Kane shooting at Jensen, Jensen sending a fireball at Kane. Then, they were both attacked by the real scourge and had to team up to survive.

Their second meeting was much better, mostly because Kane was pumped up on painkillers and Jensen was in a wheelchair hiding from the nurse from hell. Shit like that bonded people.

After that, one thing led to another and Jensen ended up as a consultant to the NYPD Special Investigation Unit. That meant he had to file reports, answer all calls from Kane like he was his lap dog and smile at the same time. He didn't mind it as much when the check that arrived at the end of each month. It pretty much ended his financial problems. True, it wasn't enough to give up all his other clients, not that he had many of them, but still. Financial stability. And he even got coverage for some of his expenses.

Now, he was doing his best to get rid of the headache and make himself presentable. There was nothing more humiliating than having to ID himself to some uniforms who didn't know the difference between a spell and a curse.

Central Park was huge, but Jensen never had much trouble finding the crime scene. There was something about acts committed with magic that left a trace behind. It was like a scent he could sense a mile away.

Maybe it was just the distinctive cologne Kane wore.

He waved his consultant ID in front of the uniform on the scene and crossed the yellow line.

"Shit, Jenny, you might look worse than our vic," was the first thing he heard.

"Why don't we switch? I'll go back to a nice, clean house, pretty little wifey, warm dinner and a fireplace and you can crawl through sewers, facing off dark sorcerers and try not to get killed while running on fumes. Would you like that?"

Kane's face became unreadable for a second before a grin returned.

"So you think Steve's pretty? I'll make sure to pass that on. He'll be thrilled."

Jensen pinched the bridge of his nose. It was too much for him. He didn't actually care who did it as long as someone killed him. Please.

"Can we just get to the point? I do realize that the victim isn't going anywhere but I really am exhausted and the thaumaturgic signature, if any, won't stay strong enough to track for long," he said, with just a hint of whine in his voice. But it got the message across and Kane switched to a professional mode.

"Alright, princess. Let's see if you'll be able to find that traumatic signature of yours. But try not to look like a whack job from hell this time? I have enough problems billing your hours as it is."

Jensen flipped him off and looked around trying to assess the situation.

The smell of death was stronger to the right, and he slowly walked up to the primary crime scene, body still on the grass. He nodded to himself. Good. That was the first thing he'd fought Chris over. Leaving the scene as undisturbed as possible.

Crime Scene Units limited access to the crime scene because they were worried about secondary transfer of trace evidence, additional fingerprints, bootprints and any evidence that might get logged and mislead the investigators into drawling false conclusions. Jensen worried about too many auras that layered on the crime scene like fucking blankets, making that first one, the one that was most important, almost invisible and unreadable.

Jensen closed his eyes and tried to relax his muscles, which wasn't all that easy. He tried not to think about the mutilated corpse not even 9 feet from where he was standing. Instead, he tried to imagine the guy as he probably looked like before something, or someone, got to him. He took a deep breath, clearing his mind, making himself available to various magical energies. When he opened his eyes, the world looked completely different.

There was his own emerald signature in the air, faint, suppressing his magical signature was among the first things Jensen learned as an apprentice. There was dark blue that belonged to Kane, intense and fluctuating, mixing with soft gold where it met Kane's skin. Soft gold was the color Jensen came to associate with Chris's partner, Steve.

There were yellow and violet traces all around the crime scenes, but a quick glance at the uniforms near the yellow tape excluded them as valid traces. First uniforms on the scene always left traces, strong emotions that went hand to hand with discovering the body and calling it in, made it difficult to control the impression they left. Even when you knew what an aura was and that it could've been suppressed.

There was a chocolate brown color all around the victim; traces leading away from the crime scene, most likely where the victim came from. There was a sense of purpose about the victim. Purpose and hurry, as if he had places to be, news, or perhaps objects to deliver. A courier? Messanger? Jensen couldn't tell for sure, so he decided to keep that idea to himself for the time being.

Jensen pointed out the direction to Chris.

"That's where the victim came from," he said quietly, trying not to break his focus. He knew from the experience that if he didn't share the discoveries as they came with Kane, he would forget half of them the moment his perception returned to the usual spectrum. He trusted the Sergeant to make notes, or at least remember for him.

A faint grey trace caught his attention. He closed his eyes trying to isolate that one signature. When he opened them again, the grey lines in the air darkened a little and Jensen had no doubt that they were once completely black.

It was a sure sign that some dark magic was in the works.

The main problem with dark magic was that there wouldn't be any trail leading to where the killer came from. Dark magic wasn't like an aura. It wasn't linear. It only showed up in places where magic was released, either in a spell, the presence of a magical being itself, or in the violent action of someone who conjured black spells on a regular basis.

Jensen leaned closer to the body, trying to memorize the magic signature, so that he could recognize it later on, as it was as good as a fingerprint when identifying a caster. When he was sure he wouldn't mistaken this signature for any other, he straighten up and shook his head. The focus on the magical side of the crime scene was gone, he was able to see everything as it appeared to the other people present, in dull colors and soft edges.

"You done with the mumbo jumbo?" asked Kane cautiously. He knew that it was never a good idea to distract Jensen, in case he wasn't done with magic, but over the years he managed to learn little hints that Jensen's focus was no longer on magic.

"Yeah. With the trace evidence at least. There's definitely something supernatural in the works. It's either a creature or a dark spell, but it's definitely a case for you and your guys," Jensen nodded towards two guys in suits, sitting just outside the perimeter, watching them and clearly waiting for something.

Chris smiled. Jensen could tell it was exactly what he wanted to hear.

"Can we finally process the crime scene with the good old fashion mortal ordinary means?" he asked and when Jensen nodded his agreement, Chris raised his arm and waved the guys inside. "Alright boys, this motherfucker is ours! Let's take everything back with us!" he yelled, smiling when his minions immediately started moving.

Jensen rolled his eyes when he saw Chris flipping the other suits off. Homicide, probably. It was ridiculous how Special Investigations and Homicide hated each other. Technically they were supposed to be on the same team. Helping the helpless and catching bad guys.

Apparently they did all that. In between acting like fifth graders. When Jensen, with his anti-social behaviour, paying rent barely on time, capable of cursing people who called him before his first cup of coffee, had the moral higher ground-- it was not the best sign.

"Don't you think it's time you got over that thing you have against Homicide?" he asked Chris while SIU gathered evidence and waited for the ME to inform everybody that the victim was in fact dead. Jensen never really understood that one. Everybody could tell the guy was dead. The lack of throat and too much blood around left some clues, after all.

"Hell no," Kane replied almost immediately. "If they can make fun of my guys for never solving a case in their lives, while we bust our asses so that monsters stay in the fucking shadows, I can enjoy taking their crime scene away from them."

"I always knew you were a man of simple pleasures..." Jensen laughed and shook his head in disbelief.

"Steve wouldn't agree with you," Chris said lightly which made Jensen grimace.

"Jesus, Kane, didn't we have that conversation where you keep your life to yourself and we don't share personal details with each other? My delicate psyche is already damaged enough, I can't afford additional hours with my shrink."

"You really need to get laid, Jenny. All mojo and no fun makes little Jensen a pathetic and frustrated consultant. How do you want to make magic if your wand is rusty?"

"You really do think you're funny, don't you? Christ, Kane." Jensen couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Why don't you just do your fucking job? Go examine the scene? Canvas the area? Interview people? Anything, anywhere that is far away from me?"

It was a wild idea, but man, it appealed to Jensen at that particular moment. Kane was an amazing friend, and Jensen loved working with him. He really did. But sometimes, especially when Jensen only had one cup of coffee before he started his day, he really, truly wanted to kill the guy.

Leaving no forensic evidence.

Chris, as if sensing what Jensen was thinking, rolled his eyes and went to join his guys.

"How about I'll keep you updated on what we find and you do me a favor and not die in the next week. If you have time, try to look into this little supernatural disturbance we have here, alright, princess?" he said over his shoulder and Jensen took it as a dismissal.

Thank fucking God.

He knew he wouldn't be able to fall asleep 'till evening, he decided that nothing would help him as much as a nice hot double espresso. And maybe a latte after that.

With a plan formed in his mind, Jensen left the crime scene, ignoring the glares from the Homicide detectives still parked outside the perimeter.

***

Exactly in the middle of the route between Central Park and Jensen's apartment, there was a tiny little diner, where they served pancakes all the time and had an espresso machine. It was a wonder more people didn't know about this place. Then again, it was better for Jensen, who hated crowds and liked the fact that his favourite booth in the back was always free, as if reserved especially for him.

The waitress, Katie, knew him as a regular and he no longer needed to order anything. Pancakes and double espresso always appeared on his table few minutes after he sat down. And when he was done with the pancakes, the latte always arrived, made perfectly, and sending Jensen to heaven with each sip.

Something was different that morning. He came in and nodded to the cook. Other regulars acknowledged his presence, but didn't react in any other way than just throwing him a quick glance. He wasn't surprised, as he wasn't exactly in the best shape.

He saw Katie serving another customer so he didn't greet her, not wanting to interrupt anything. He simply moved to his booth in the back, unoccupied as usual, and sat down. He was expecting his coffee and breakfast in a matter of minutes, but no such thing happened. He frowned and looked around, trying to locate Katie.

She was standing next to the table where he first spotted her when he came in. From his place in the back he could see she wasn't serving the customer anything, the coffee pot in her hand was more of an excuse than anything else. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. While he knew Katie was cheerful and friendly, she was a waitress after all, her attitude usually translated into tips, but this was the first time he actually saw her flirt with a customer, and she was flirting, like crazy. Smiling, leaning towards the guy, giggling and playing with her hair. Jensen had to blink to make sure he wasn't imagining it.

No, he decided, she really was flirting. And the guy - he was flirting right back. It took Jensen a moment to actually come to that conclusion. Not because the guy was especially covert in what he was doing. Nope, it was pretty obvious he was working his way into Katie's panties. Flashing his dimples, lowering his voice to what Jensen could only describe as a bedroom voice. Hell the guy wasn't flirting with Jensen and that voice was sending shivers down his spine.

The voice wasn't his only asset. Jensen could see long legs under that table that made his heart beat faster. He had well muscled arms with wide shoulders under a T-shirt that was a perfect kind of tight.

Jesus, since when was he ogling perfect strangers in a diner where everybody knew him?

The fact remained, he couldn't take his eyes off of the stranger flirting with Katie.

Just because he happened to be looking in the direction of the guy, he noticed something changed about him. When Katie threw her head back and laughed at something he said, Jensen saw the guy's hazel eyes flash silver, just as he leaned forward.

Jensen's blood went cold and he froze in his place, unsure of what he just witnessed and what should he do about it. Katie, Katie was a friend.

He didn't sense any magic being done, so maybe it was just a reflection or some other illusion. Maybe he didn't see it at all. After all the moment he found somebody attractive, his brain always supplied what was wrong with them. Now, since the tall, dark and handsome stranger was clearly perfect, maybe his brain just wanted to find something wrong with him.

When Katie touched the man's shoulder, an obvious invitation to ask her out, the man's eyes flashed silver again. This time it was lighter and Jensen couldn't believe that Katie hadn't noticed anything. That told Jensen everything he needed to know. There might've been no spell at work, but something was clearly Not Right. He felt like he should be doing something about that.

"Hey Katie..." he raised his voice and without looking, he deliberately pushed the sugar container off his table. A loud crash of glass breaking all over the floor filled the air and disrupted the atmosphere. Jensen looked down at what he'd done. "Oh shit, I am so sorry," he said, proud of himself for sounding apologetic.

It got the job done, because Katie moved away from the guy and was now doing her best to clean up the mess.

"I'm really sorry, Katie," Jensen said again and helped Katie up. She just smiled, though it wasn't a completely honest smile.

"It's alright, Jensen. I shouldn't have been flirting with Jared. You probably wanted those pancakes and espresso, right?"

Jensen nodded, still smiling apologetically. In a way, he really didn't mean to give Katie additional work. He just wanted to make sure the guy, Jared, wasn't putting any mojo on her.

Shit, he was spending too much time with Kane, if he was using his phrases already...

He watched as Katie disappeared through the door to the kitchen and then he remembered it wasn't over. He returned his gaze to the other man, Jared, only to find him looking back.

Jensen didn't smile, though he wanted to. God he wanted to. He wanted to make it a little grin, the one that Kane called a "Slutty Jenny number 5", but he forced himself to control the need and his lips twitched only slightly, before a schooled, calm expression returned to his face. He was aware that it was completely different from the apologetic smile he gave Katie.

He felt Jared's eyes on him, assessing him, taking in the leather coat and the protection bracelet around his wrist. Jensen saw a brief flash of recognition in Jared's eyes. He knew the other man realized Jensen wasn't a usual mortal with no awareness of the supernatural.

He expected Jared to react somehow to that newly acquired knowledge. Maybe a hardened expression on his face, or a retreat... maybe even calling Jensen on the obvious distraction technique.

Instead, Jared winked at him.

Fucking winked at him. And grinned.

Holy hell if that grin didn't make Jensen want to wipe it off with a bruising kiss. That just proved how wrong this whole situation was.

He was about to leave, it wouldn't be running away, strategic retreat maybe, but just as he arrived at the decision that he had to, Jared stood up and threw some bills onto his table.

"Thanks for breakfast, Katie!" he yelled into the kitchen area with a smile and turned to Jensen. "Nice meeting you...Jensen, was it? Maybe I'll see you around?" he said, but his voice wasn't as cheerful as it was when he thanked Katie. Instead, it was lower, darker. It promised Jensen all sort of things that Jensen really really wanted in the privacy of his bedroom.

Things Jensen wanted to say yes to.

He was still staring at the door when Katie brought him his coffee and pancakes. He didn't even notice until she waved her hand in front of his face.

"Earth to Jensen, are you in there?"

He could hear the amusement in her voice and that alone made him flush a little. Christ, he was behaving like a teenage girl pining after the quarterback or something.

He was a grown up guy, a fucking wizard to that. He could handle some lust at the first sight. Especially when it wasn't completely natural but induced by some kind magic. So what if he couldn't sense any spell.

He shook his head and turned to Katie. And yes, just like he suspected, the amusement was written all over her face.

"Sorry. I'm a bit distracted."

"Yes... I could see that. Though, if you want some advice, you should probably learn how to stare in a little less obvious manner. Jared likes a little challenge."

Jensen frowned. And refused to acknowledge the fact that his mind filed that particular information away for future use. There wouldn't be any flirting with Jared, and his breathing could calm right down. Anytime now.

"You know him?" He asked, instead. "He a regular?"

Katie patted his shoulder.

"Oh yeah, you got it bad. It's okay, Jared has that effect on people. To answer your question, yes, Jared is a regular, though he is usually in a bit earlier. I don't know why he comes in for coffee, he's always so cheerful. Unlike somebody else I won't name who acts like a barbarian before his first espresso." She finished pointedly.

"Morning person..." Jensen muttered to himself and didn't even try to hide the disgust.

Right there, proof that there was something wrong with Jared. Morning people. In Jensen's book they were all the equivalent of evil warlocks trying to take over the world.

"Morning people give best tips though," Katie said pointedly while she picked up the bills Jared left her. Jensen rolled her eyes. Yeah, he got the hint. He still wouldn't be tipping Katie as well as she deserved. He had bills to pay.

Without additional comment, he started on his pancakes. Oh yeah, that was exactly what he needed. With food and maybe some rest, if he was lucky, he should be able to recharge his batteries in no time.

***

Jensen was wrong. Apparently recharging his batteries was not the option. Sure the pancakes, two espressos and one latte to go made him feel better, almost like a human again. He even took a nap in his car. True, his car was not the most comfortable vehicle on Earth and he didn't really mean to take that nap. Hell he shouldn't have been able to shut his eyes with all that caffeine pumping through his veins.

Even with good food that provided him with actual calories and at least half an hour of sleep, he still felt like lighting a frigging candle would feel like moving a mountain.

God help him if any of his enemies saw him like that.

Jensen sighed. Sitting in the car was pointless. He should probably try to move the NYPD case along, earn that paycheck and all... He could rest some other time. It wasn't as if tracking auras required all that much strength, it just took some pretty intense concentration to recreate the highly complicated signature, hours of meditation and a lot of actual footwork.

Okay, so maybe he should head back to his apartment and get some sleep. Just thinking about what he had to do made him almost fall over from exhaustion.

He drove home slowly, unwilling to risk his usual speed. Jensen still felt as if he could fall asleep at any moment. The slower speed would surely keep him from dying in a one car accident. That, and the honking of horns, as other drivers let him know they were unhappy about his driving. That was entertaining.

Fuck 'em, as Kane often said.

When Jensen finally got to his apartment, something felt wrong. At first, he couldn't put his finger on it. The doors were closed, locked, nothing was out of place. Nobody had gone through his things, the lack of disturbance in the dust and ever present chaos was a confirmation of that.

Still, he couldn't shake the feeling, that knot his intestines were suddenly tied into.

He slowly moved through the room, carefully looking around, trying to find the source of the bad feeling, the reason for the unease. His eyes rested on the kitchenette. The bad milk was still there, the coffee cup, rest of the food that still hadn't grown its own legs to walk to the trash can. No change there.

The rest of the room didn't look any different. There were books on the floor, and the couch, and the coffee table. Potion ingredients placed in an equally chaotic sorting system all over the place.

He ran his fingers over his bracelet, checking the protective spells on it. After all, they said that the majority of accidents happen at home. Jensen wouldn't want to improve that percentage. He wasn't exactly a fan of accidental death by someone else's hostile spell.

All that was left was to check the bedroom and the bathroom. He slowly opened the bathroom door and took a peek inside. It wasn't large enough to hide a troll or any other dangerous creature, and if somebody cursed his toothbrush, it would be a long time 'til he had time to think about personal hygiene, so he was safe for now. He might have to worry about that later.

Bathroom done, he took a deep breath and went in the direction of his bedroom.

The bad feeling became worse.

Jensen tried to relax, tried to calm himself. He told himself that he was overreacting, that it was the exhaustion talking, emphasizing his natural wizard paranoia.

And then he opened the bedroom door.

"Adrianne."

Jensen glared at the woman sitting on his bed.

The blonde curls of her hair perfectly framed the soft pale face. Jensen's eyes rested for a moment on the perfect red lips, but he quickly looked up when he saw those lips curl into a smirk.

"That's not the most friendly welcome, Jensen," she scolded him with a frown that didn't even disturb the perfect line of her forehead.

Jensen remembered why he hated Adrianne so much. She was so fucking perfect on the outside and so twisted and cruel on the inside.

"What did you expect?" he asked. "That I'd welcome you with a smile, instead of a fireball? I don't remember inviting you in."

"Like mortal boundaries are any of my concern."

"There's still a threshold, Adrianne. I figure that means I could take you on and actually win."

She laughed. It wasn't a nice laugh, like the one you hear when you tell a good joke. It was one of the nasty ones, the ones you usually heard behind your back when you'd done something particularly stupid.

Jensen's hands itched, while he fought the urge to hit her with something.

"Oh Jensen, you say the silliest things. You're a bachelor who doesn't hesitate to walk the line between your so called white and black magic. Believe me when I tell you that your threshold isn't the strongest defense against the supernatural."

Jensen tried to keep a straight face. He didn't want her to think he knew she was telling the truth. He didn't want to give her the satisfaction.

The truth was that while a threshold was usually a very strong defense against any kind of supernatural power, any evil that wanted to cross it without an explicit invitation would be forced to leave a lot of its power outside. It was just better if it was a threshold in a family home.

Okay, every house, every apartment had a threshold. And every threshold offered some level of protection. But a family with kids had a stronger threshold than a bachelor. Private homes offered better protection than public places. Places of faith, love and devotion could keep a stronger evil out than brothels and hotels.

Jensen was a bachelor who didn't say no to one night stands. He valued results so he didn't hesitate to bend the rules.

The drug dealer two blocks down had a more powerful threshold than Jensen. Jensen didn't know why it was that way, but it was. It sucked, but unless he expected to introduce some unknown stranger to mortal danger because of his dangerous, supernaturally dominated life, there wasn't anything he could do to change it. Hell, he hadn't even had a date in forever.

It still irritated him to no end the the bad guy, or girl, knew it too. It was especially annoying in moments like this one, where his magic was running low and he knew he didn't stand a chance.

"Is there a reason you decided to visit?" he asked, allowing the irritation to show in his voice.

Adrianne stood up and walked up to him.

"Can't I just visit my favourite wizard for a friendly chit chat? Maybe I simply missed your pretty face?"

Jensen just raised his eyebrow. That was a bullshit answer and it was so obvious no comments where necessary. Adrianne chuckled.

"I simply wanted to warn you. I care deeply for your well-being and it came to my attention that you might be in danger. Is it so wrong to want to protect my favourite mortal?"

"With every day, you make less and less sense. Maybe age is catching up to you?" the bad feeling Jensen had since he came home? It returned in full force almost making him incapable of breathing. If Adrianne decided to warn him, he either was in deep shit that could result in him getting killed, or he was crossing into her territory. Which could result in him getting killed.

He liked living.

"You see... It came to my attention that the mortal forces called you to consult on a certain case... It would probably be best if you decided that there's nothing to be found..."

"But there is," he pointed out. The dark magic was on the crime scene. And now Adrianne's presence was proving that there really was something wrong.

She shook her head, clearly disappointed. She reached out and caressed his chest, moving her hand lower and squeezing his dick. He imagined the rotten corpse of the victim in Central Park. He would not give her the satisfaction of getting a hard on from her touch.

"I would hate it if something happened to such a fine specimen like yourself, Jensen," she told him, her voice low and seductive.

With that, she disappeared.

Jensen stood there, unmovingly, for a long time. Partly, to make sure she was really gone, but also to try and control that sudden fear that overwhelmed him.

When he felt like he could breathe again, he went to the phone and called Kane's voicemail, not feeling the strength to talk to the man himself.

"Kane, we're screwed. Very much screwed, fucked sideways. I need a few hours to do some rituals, I should know more then, and I'll call you. Do not leave your house before that. Otherwise, we're good as dead."

He knew Kane would want details he didn't have. He hung up, deciding what to do first. Kill himself, maybe? No, Kane's ass was on the line too.

He sighed. So much for getting some rest.

***

The thing about magic is that it's very easy until it isn't. And in that particular aspect it's unlike any other skill you ever learn.

See, when you want to learn how to ride a bike, or drive a car, or dance, or shoot, anything, at the very beginning it all seems very complicated and difficult to achieve. So you start small. Take one step and then another. You learn about how the car is built, how to clean your gun. With time, your knowledge of the subject, mixed with practice, the big things you achieved at the beginning seem easy and you no longer need as much concentration as you did at the very beginning. You proceed without paying much thought to them, realizing your concentration can be on the other, more complex things.

With magic it's all about believing that the spell will work. True, you also need some actual natural talent to channel the mental force, 'juice', if you will, into that spell and make it happen. But faith is a big part of it.

So when you start with the magic stuff, trying to light a candle, make a protection charm for your loved ones, reading the future or talking to the past, you just gather what you think you should, improvise and boom. Depending on how much doubt there is left in your mind, the spell either works or it doesn't.

If it doesn't, you turn to Wicca, go dance around a fire every Solstice and live your days in peace, convinced that magic is a way of life, not some mumbo jumbo, sparkly Harry Potter stuff.

If it works -- You're suddenly convinced that you're the real deal. That is only partly true, because what you really are is a lucky bastard who is alive only because the real evil magic users were busy somewhere else and didn't pay attention to that tiny spike in magic that wasn't even protected by a circle.

As a rookie, you're unaware of the dangers the magic world holds. You have no idea that one misplaced word in an incantation can turn the spell on you, could kill you, blow up a building or open a gateway to literal hell. You lack perspective. You're riding on a high because one fucking spell worked, and suddenly you're a magician. Now you want to be able to move objects with the power of your mind, change weather patterns, create fireballs, cast curses, lift curses, be the next Merlin and have your own little pet king.

You decide to learn more about the craft, maybe even find some working spells in those nice shiny books they sell in the spiritual bookstore you walk past every morning. You read shitloads of books, all telling you how the earth is this pleasant little world where the mother nature and some gods gave the humans powers to harvest all that's good and shiny and if you don't puke yourself to death after that, it's safe to say you won't do any magic ever again.

New Age crap.

Somewhere in there, it's possible that you manage to learn about auras and the importance of visualization and various herbs and their uses. About colors and the inner melody that makes spells work. About all the necessary precautions you need to do before you even think about doing a spell.

If you have any brains, that's the moment when you start wondering why the hell you need those precautions if the earth is one big magical love fest. And you research the lore and the dark side of things and you realize that you're one lucky son of a bitch because you did that one spell at the very beginning and lived to see another day.

Jensen had done all that. He went through all those stages, yes, including wanting his own little pet king. The thing about magic, Jensen learned pretty quickly, was that you could move that damn mountain with the power of your mind. He also came to realize that the mountain was probably there for a really good reason, and if you exhausted yourself moving it, you wouldn't be able to put it back when it damn well needed to be there. Or save yourself from whatever you'd let out.

Real magic was not about hippy love and flower power and dancing naked around the fire every once in a while. It was dark, and dangerous and hated you from the moment you entered into that world for every ounce of power you claimed. For every ounce of power you struggled to gain, someone else out there had that one ounce of power less. It was usually a very powerful, very angry wizard with the desire to see how would your head look on a pike.

In a way, gaining power and understanding over magic was rarely worth it. Unless you were that very powerful, very angry guy with a collection of heads on pikes. Or, unless you're like Jensen, and magic is the only thing you know how to do.

Jensen had no idea how powerful he was, although he could stand his ground. He might be angry from time to time, though it was nothing on some of the rages he'd seen Kane fly into. It made him wonder why Kane wasn't in a Department mandated anger management program. Jensen had a list of people that he wouldn't mind seeing dead, but the pikes at his house were headless. Killing by magical means always had repercussions; killing another practitioner for power carried the White Council's only death penalty.

He was also a good guy, which frankly pained him more than anything else. He was brought up to always do the right thing, save the puppies and everything else be damned. Sometimes, he wondered if being the good guy automatically meant that he was missing a lot of brain cells. There had to be an explanation for why exactly he refused to listen to a very powerful evil. He wasn't exactly sure what Adrianne was, but he knew for sure that he was an idiot for not doing as he was told.

Another vote in the idiot column was the fact that he was now preparing for a cleansing ritual and a tracking spell that would be followed by hours of concentration. While any smart, sane person would simply go to sleep and recover from the last weeks work, maybe even regain the magic energy he wanted to use in a few hours, but clearly lacked at the moment.

Jensen already knew he was an idiot, getting himself into trouble over and over again because he couldn't just walk the other way when somebody needed help and he didn't want to ignore the evil creatures who lived in the fair city of New York.

There was something in the back of his head that always said that this was his City, damn it. It was his job to keep it safe. New Yorkers posed enough of a threat to their own well-being without any added danger from the supernatural world.

Right?

Jensen never actually answered that question. Never had time to. Always solving a problem. Or, sleeping off solving some problem.

Like now. He was busy lighting white candles all over his bathroom, preparing a bath that would cleanse his body, put his mind at peace. He made place on the floor in the living room, making sure that he didn't have to waste time after his bath. If, somehow, he managed not to fall asleep and drown in the bathtub, he wanted to move straight to meditation that would cleanse his spirit, gather what was left of his own magic, open him up to the magic around him, allowing him to gather what he needed for the spell.

Briefly, he pictured how he'd go about all this back in the day when he was just a lucky son of a bitch trying to light a candle by closing his eyes and regulating his breathing. Yeah, that would work so well right now.

With a final glance, to check if he had everything he needed ready, he unhooked the phone and made sure nothing else would disturb him. Then he went to take a long, well deserved and really necessary bath.

He quashed the thought that his bathroom looked like a frigging set from a very bad porn film, all candle light and scented water. He took a deep breath and tried his best to clear his mind of any and all the doubt he had. The last thing he needed was to be second guessing himself.

He did his best to reach that particular state of mind required for meditation. A step away from the point when your perception alters and your mind registers the things that usually stay hidden.

Jensen feared briefly that he would fall asleep, it had happened before, when he was younger, but it was a ridiculous fear. He had much more control than that now. And even though he felt like he'd fall asleep any moment now, with warm water gently coaxing his muscles to relax, when he moved past that point, he felt awake and ready. It was a trance-like state that left his body moving slowly, as if through water and not air, but with his mind was clear. When he left the bathroom, he could feel the power floating around him and he allowed it to float through him, without a conscious effort, recharging his own power supplies. He felt unstoppable, like nothing could hurt him.

That was one of the reasons why Jensen didn't often allow himself to indulge in rituals like that. They always left him feeling invincible and that could get him killed. He'd be thinking he had all the power in the world and nothing could stop him.

He'd rather pass on that one.

Not allowing himself to get distracted by random thoughts that always showed up in his mind when he was in this state, he sat in the middle of a circle he created using candles. He exhaled and built up the power around him, building up a mental circle around himself that would protect him from any distractions, any mental attacks during his vulnerable state. When he was sure nothing would be able to disrupt the circle or his concentration he closed his eyes and exhaled again. There was a snapping sound, and he could smell the freshly lit candles as well as feel their warmth.

He opened his eyes and saw that the candles around him were now alight. He could see his own green signature floating everywhere around him. He was ready to do some digging now.

There was a map of New York City in front of him, lying on the floor, where he left it before going to take his bath. Slowly and carefully, he covered the map with dark sand, choosing it over the usual ingredient of gun powder. Even in his relaxed, invincible state Jensen was aware of exactly how stupid it was to play with gun powder while surrounded with candles. Dark sand, coming straight from the earth, cold and unwelcoming, would work even better.

When the map was coated in a thin layer of the sand, so you could barely see it underneath, Jensen closed his eyes and raised his hands. It was time to recreate the magical signature he saw on the crime scene. He concentrated and painted the picture in his mind. Carefully making sure each stroke, each knot of the magical lines was where he saw it when he was in Central park. And when he was confident the signature was the exact copy of what he was on the crime scene, and that the image was almost burned into his eyelids, he opened his eyes, only to see the same signature painted before him in dark green lines of his own power.

"Invenio," he muttered, feeling the power surge through him, through his hands,into the map in front of him.

Green tendrils of power left Jensen's fingers and were absorbed by the map as the candles flickered sputtered in the wake of his magic.

"Invenio, reperio," he repeated commandingly, more will behind the words. He took more power from the surrounding area and pushed it towards the map, unable to quash the satisfaction he felt when he saw the sand on the map move around.

It was working.

He watched the sand clear completely from certain areas on the map, staying where it was in others, pointing to places where the signature Jensen was looking for could be found. It was gathering up in obvious places, like the Central Park and Jensen's own apartment, though that spot didn't attract much of the sand. But the sand also melted into the map in other places, in Brooklyn and in few places along the river. In a way, Jensen realized with shock that while he expected a trace to two or three locations, he was now seeing ten or twenty spots all over the place.

He was still staring at the map, unable to comprehend the implications of what he was seeing, when he smelled burning paper. He leaned to find the places on the map that heated the sand to make it melt through the map, creating a thin coat of slightly green glass. He immediately cut his connection to the power floating around, closed off his mind and stopped the spell. He kept the protective circle around him for a few more minutes, allowing the forces around him to disappear slowly, without causing much of commotion. He hated calling attention to himself just because he was in a hurry. Nothing rang through the magical channels like a sloppy work.

He had to get the map to Chris, find out from him what the lab might've found, plan what to do next. He needed to go and see what exactly was at the spots the spell showed him, hoping that it weren't any bodies.

***

Jensen felt completely out of place standing in front of Kane's apartment building. It was in a nice neighborhood, not the Upper East Side, no one could afford that, especially a cop, but it was a neighborhood where people didn't care what was going on behind your doors, as long as the police weren't called, and you didn't throw noisy parties.

No one seemed to care that Kane lived with another man, or that his comings and going were often at odd hours. He figured it was because he was a cop, and it made the neighbors feel safer. Jensen thought it had something to do with Chris and Steve's discretion. Neither of them was a fan of PDAs, so they didn't give the neighbors any reason to say a word. It was Jensen that made the neighbors uncomfortable. The woman that lived across the hall called him Chris's friend with the unfortunate drug problem, and had told Chris that Jensen made her uncomfortable, concerned with her safety. It was enough for Chris to invite Jensen over often, for his personal amusement. Jensen heard the security locks slide home when he went up the stairs to Chris and Steve's walk-up.

 

If it was up to Jensen, he'd never go there, never take the chance of bringing anything dangerous into their lives. Chris was lucky to have Steve, and Steve and Chris made a home. It was something Jensen didn't have, family, a powerful deterrent in their threshold. Jensen couldn't even keep someone like Adrianne out. He wondered if it would help to get a dog.

He was still trying to talk himself out of bringing the situation into Kane's home. Everyone deserved their privacy, when a voice shouted

"Get your ass inside princess!"

Kane yelled from the third floor window. Damn it... He figured next time when he was dithering about seeing a professional investigator, he'd do it from the shadows. Or across the street.

Now that he was made, there was nothing he could do but to get inside and climb all those damn stairs. He didn't even get to knock, because the moment he raised his fist, Chris was opening the door.

"You know, it's a wonder none of my neighbours knocked on my door asking me to do something about that creepy man outside," he said and without looking back he went further inside.

Jensen could either stand there on the doorstep, like the idiot he was, or come in and lose the rest of the pathetic reserves of magic he was trying to cling to.

"Invite the man in," came a calm, warm voice from the kitchen and Kane stopped. He then sighed and gestured Jensen inside.

"You heard the man, Jenny. Come inside, I invite you in oh-so dangerous one," he said and rolled his eyes. "You're right on time for dinner too. With all the money the department is pouring into your consultant ass you'd think you at least could feed yourself.

"I eat," Jensen said defensively. He felt as if he was talking to his mother, always worrying that he didn't eat enough. Comparing Kane to his mother made him grimace. It was wrong. So wrong, on so many levels.

Chris made a doubtful sound and they both entered the kitchen, where Chris's partner was stirring something in the pot. Oh God, it smelled wonderful. Jensen swallowed and tried not to drool too much.

"Steve," he greeted the other man.

Steve responded with a smile, but didn't say anything. Steve liked to concentrate on one thing at the time, only giving in to distraction when it was absolutely necessary, or when Kane had forgotten his manners and then forgotten that Jensen needed to be invited in.

Chris opened his fridge and fished out three beers, handing one of them to Jensen. "So, why exactly are you here, princess? Because while it's pretty damned awesome, I doubt Steve's chili is the only reason."

Jensen nodded. "It's about the case..." he frowned. "Did you get my message? I left one on your voicemail saying you should stay at home until I know more..."

Chris blinked. The confused expression on his face told Jensen everything he needed to know. Kane never got the message, which meant --

"He got the message," Steve told them and tasted the chili. Then, he added something and kept stirring.

"The fuck I did!" was Kane's only response. It made Jensen grimace, but Steve didn't seem to mind the raised voice.

"Of course you did. Why else would you have stayed home this entire time instead of chasing clues that would lead you nowhere?"

"I stayed because you..." the realization dawned on Chris and Jensen grimaced once again. This would not be pretty. "You. You listened to the voicemail, deleted it and kept me here bribing me with... Steve! I'm a cop! You cannot play me like that! I'm not one of your fucking groupies!"

Steve sighed heavily. "Christian, calm down."

"I am fucking calm! We're supposed to trust each other!"

"Think for a second," Steve finally stopped cooking and turned completely to face Chris. Jensen felt like he shouldn't be watching this. "You hear a voicemail from Jensen telling you you're both screwed and fucked beyond all recognition. That you're in big and as good as dead. He also tells you to stay home, safe, while he collects information that could shed more light on your current fucked up situation. What do you do?"

"What do you mean, what do I do?! You know what I'd do! I'd go and find Jenny before he got himself killed!"

Steve looked at Chris pointedly, not saying anything.

"And probably get both of yourselves killed in the process." There was no heat in his voice, Steve merely pointed out the fact.

Jensen felt like he should step in, he didn't like being the cause of an argument between Chris and Steve.

"I spent the entire day at home. I was doing some rituals that required complete lack of interruptions," he said carefully, not wanting to gather any negative attention. "Distractions would have meant all the preparations were for nothing, and well --"

Technically, he wasn't lying. He was simply withholding some of the information that Chris would find of no use to him anyway. There was no need to introduce Adrianne into the whole picture. If she came up again, Jensen would tell Chris what he knew about her. For now, they had enough problems.

Chris glared at him. Then he turned and glared at Steve. And then muttered something about teaming up against him.

"So, what did you find? And you'd better make it good, so I don't feel like killing you," he said, still clearly angry, but work and professional approach took over.

"I did a little tracking of that signature I found on the crime scene," he said and reached to his backpack for the map he put there. "The spell showed me all the spots in the City where this particular signature appeared."

Chris motioned him towards the table, where Jensen laid out the map, the sand still melted onto it. Kane took it in and it was obvious he didn't like what he was seeing.

"You certainly know how to treat maps, Jenny..." Chris' voice wasn't as sarcastic as it usually was, a clear sign that the sheer number of locations in the City unsettled him.

"It was sand or gun powder," Jensen shrugged, "I figured I should limit the fire hazard as much as possible..."

Kane made a doubtful sound, picked up the map to look through it in the two spots where it burned the paper off. "Yes, I can see how this was a better choice."

"Thank you for the input, genius," Jensen rolled his eyes.

"I believe the proper term is 'Detective'," Chris grinned. "Now, I'll need some explanation." he said, placing the map back on the table.

"In theory every single mark on the map represents the appearance on the magical signature that I saw on our crime scene. That means the same person who used black magic on our crime scene was present in all of those locations, doing magic," Jensen cleared his throat, feeling as if he was teaching a class. It felt stupid. "It might've been as little of a spell as lighting a candle, or as big as a murder."

That clearly got Chris interested. He leaned closer to the map, examining the marks. "And can you tell which is which?"

"Only in theory. Stronger spells should leave a deeper mark, but the thing is all magic is fluent. It fades with time and the faintest mark can mean it was a minor spell or that it was done a long time ago."

"So there's no way of telling?" the disappointment in Kane's voice was clear.

"Not with the faint traces. The strongest," he pointed to the marks where the map was burnt through, "here and here are both recent and strong spells. I'll be checking them out as soon as I leave here. Especially this one," her poked the one deep mark in Brooklyn, "I need to do that one before dawn..."

Kane nodded and moved away from the table. "Okay, I'll get my gun and we can go..."

"Whoa, whoa!!" Jensen raised his arms trying to stop Chris. "What 'we', who said anything about 'we'? Are you out of your mind?"

"It might be dangerous, I am not letting you go by yourself, you idiot," Chris narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah? And what are you gonna do while I cast shields and counter spells? Stay out of trouble and admire the fireworks?" as soon as those words left Jensen's mouth, he knew he'd gone too far. And now instead of a friendly cop he had a really pissed off Christian Kane on his hands.

"This is MY case, Ackles. I'm a fucking cop, not a teenage girl. It's my job to solve this case and probably to protect you, at the same time."

"Yeah? Then do your fucking job and find out if there were crimes in the marked areas." Jensen fired back. "I'll see if any of those magic spots can be any help in finding out who cast the spells." What Jensen didn't want to say was that if anything happened, any spell backfired, or worse, there was someone powerful close to those places... Chris would not only be completely useless, but there was no guarantee Jensen would be able to protect them both, not with the little power he had at the moment. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to Kane.

"And both of you can shut up and get that map of my fucking table," interrupted Steve. "I didn't spend half of the day in the kitchen slaving over a hot stove to let all this food go to waste. So sit down, and calm the fuck down."

And before they could think about what they were doing both Chris and Jensen sat down at the table. Jensen had completely forgotten Steve was in the room while he argued with Chris. It was such a shock to see Chris' partner angry and swearing that his brain refused to cooperate.

Then again, he couldn't blame Steve for reacting like that. Chris' partner never liked the two of them fighting over how to solve a case. Jensen suspected it was because of the peaceful nature Steve had. That's why the outburst was such a shock. It punched the anger right out of the both of them. Jensen didn't want to read too much into Steve's reaction though, afraid he would look into Steve's eyes and see the fear the other man had to feel. Afraid that his lover would not be coming back from facing someone too powerful for him to handle.

"I... I could probably make few calls. Those marks are all over the place, at least seven different precincts. It's going to be a clusterfuck..." Chris said quietly, his eyes still on Steve.

"Yeah, and I'll call after I check out each of those locations," Jensen said carefully and winced when Steve glared at him. "But if you, uhm, don't mind, I'll do that after that chili... I hadn't had home-cooked food in ages..." He quickly added, not wanting to risk Steve getting even more angry.

Everybody knew, it was the quiet ones you should look out for.

***

When Jensen finally left Chris and Steve's, he blinked and wondered where the daylight had gone. He hated losing hours like that. He blamed the ritual, because meditation always made him feel as if the time went by slower than it really did.

He quickly shook off the surprise and went to his car. He decided to check out the spot in Brooklyn first, because he had a bad feeling that he knew exactly what was at that location. It was the reason why he didn't want Kane to come with him. Chris would stand out and Jensen really didn't want to attract too much attention.

There were a few magic friendly places in New York City that were neutral by tradition. Creatures of the supernatural kind showed up there from time to time, but their real purpose was to provide a safe place to makes deals. People who used magic could meet there, eat, drink and talk, assured that no one would attack them.

Jensen never actually trusted places like that. Sure, you were safe inside, with old laws Jensen didn't really understand protecting you, your energy and your soul. There was nothing on the books prohibiting an ambush outside, when the naive newbie left the bar, not expecting an attack because of where he was seconds ago.

Some said, they frequented bars and pubs like that because they were the only places where they didn't have to pretend to be somebody else. That reason never did anything for Jensen either. He always knew who he was, he worked in his area of expertise, he was paid to share his knowledge of magic. He never had to pretend to be somebody else. Though, obviously, some of his neighbours would probably appreciate if he pretended to be a normal guy who's biggest problems was getting laid on a Friday night.

Well, that was Jensen's problem as well. Sometimes. Not always though. Obviously.

The pub in Brooklyn was called Salem, which Jensen found extremely ridiculous and amusing at the same time. Then again, this was New York, if the name could work anywhere, NYC was probably the only place on Earth.

Jensen parked two streets down from the pub because there were no empty parking spots. For magical folk, New Yorkers were terribly fond of their cars. In a way, Jensen wished that technology could react to magic like all those silly stories said. God knows it would make parking in the City much easier if cars refused to work around magic holders.

Before he left the car he took a deep breath and called to mind the image of the magical signature he was trying to find out about. He tuned his senses to tell him when he reached the exact spot where the spell was cast. He wouldn't learn anything else from that, but he wanted to be as inconspicuous as possible, for as long as possible. No need to draw attention to himself early, especially not in a place were everybody would know who he was, want to know what he was doing, and who he was hunting. Some would look for signs of weakness, and he couldn't afford the distraction. He really wished he'd be lucky once, that he would find the casting ground somewhere outside of the pub, but of course that would be way too lucky.

With a heavy sigh he walked up to the entrance and nodded to the bouncer sitting there reading a comic. The bouncer, who Jensen suspected was either a troll glamoured to look human, or was a troll sometime in his previous life, tapped the door and growled 'sign here' at him.

For a second Jensen didn't know what that meant, but then, before the bouncer decided to stand up and get closer, he tapped the door and released a simple, weak burst of energy that formed into his very own, emerald green, magical signature. That seemed to satisfy the troll, pardon me, bouncer as he went back to reading his comic, while the door opened before Jensen.

That was it. Time to face the music. He hoped he wouldn't go deaf.

Insides Salem, it was surprisingly busy and Jensen felt as if he was in the middle of any popular club. Not that he frequented the popular Manhattan clubs, but he's heard what they looked like on the inside.

He tried to look around without actually looking around or staring at the patrons, which basically left him only the route to the bar. That meant he had to cross the entire place and he arranged his face into a careful mask of indifference, painfully aware of the glances he was getting. A new patron in a place like that didn't exactly invoke trust. But one problem at a time. First, he wanted to get to the bar, order a drink, blend in. He would worry about getting information later.

When he finally got to the bar and managed to find a free stool there, he ordered a coke. For a second he wondered if he hadn't made a mistake ordering a non alcoholic drink, but the bartender didn't even blink. Jensen still wasn't sure if that was good or bad, but decided not to question his luck.

He took a sip of his drink, appreciating the cold liquid as it traveled down to his stomach. It relaxed him, at the same time making him more aware of his surroundings. He closed his eyes and exhaled, relaxing even more, as if that cold drink was exactly what he needed. Trying to look as if this was exactly why he showed up here. To unwind.

Instead, he intended to see if the caster he was looking for was in Salem. He itched to be able to bring Kane a face, possibly even a name. All he needed was to relax enough not to appear in a trance and take a peek at the patrons present in the main area.

The plan wasn't perfect, he knew that, it was risky, but it meant he was doing something, not only pretending to fit in and hoping for the best. Afterall, he didn't have any guarantee the murder in the Central Park was a single crime and wouldn't be happening again.

Taking a look at someone's aura wasn't even a proper spell, it didn't involve gathering energy. It was as safe as possible, the chances of someone actually realizing why he was doing it was minimal at best. The chances of anybody considering what he was doing to be dangerous were almost non-existent.

When he felt an arm, wrap around his shoulders he tensed. Disregarding the fact that he hadn't slipped into that double vision that allowed him to see both worlds yet, he started to open his eyes and see who the hell had the nerve to invade his personal space. That was a big no-no in the magic world. He felt a hand covering his eyes.

"Don't open your eyes, Jensen," came a whisper next to his ear. The voice was tantalizingly familiar. "You don't know how much power there is in the room, but there's enough that you could go blind. Let it go. Let me distract you, shall I?" Jensen felt a warm breath behind his ear, and he trembled, letting out a gasp when an equally warm tongue swiped at the shell of his ear.

With that Jensen's focus went to hell and the tension in his muscles was no longer stress related.

He opened his eyes, removing the hand covering them, and turned to face the stranger, ready to wipe the floor with him. He froze when he realized he was staring at the man from the diner, Jared. Jared's face was inches away from his own. In the dim lights, Jared's eyes were almost black, but the amusement was clearly visible.

"What are you doing here?" Jensen hissed the question, anger still present.

"Well I came in with just drinks in mind, but now I'm hoping I could, maybe, talk you into coming home with me. Depending on how the night ends, I will probably try to persuade you into staying. Maybe you'll let me tie you to a bedpost and keep you," Jared's voice was low and seductive and it took all of Jensen's control not to shiver. And when Jared's eyes flashed silver, Jensen managed to get a hold on his sanity, remembering that the man next to him wasn't safe.

"I don't know what you are, but that shiny little spell of yours won't work on me," Jensen narrowed his eyes and pushed Jared away, not enough to cause a scene, but firmly enough to make a point.

The surprise on Jared's face was genuine. It then changed into curiosity and Jensen felt Jared's eyes take in every single detail of Jensen. Seconds later, when Jared apparently finished his inquiries, Jared's face was brightened by a pleased smile. It was so honest and completely free of any seduction or tricks that Jensen had to remember how to breath.

"Well, good for you..." he said slowly, still smiling. He leaned closer, allowing Jensen to feel his warm breath on his lips. Without even thinking about it, Jensen opened his mouth ever so slightly, anticipating a kiss that was so clearly coming.

When he realized what he was doing there was a brief thought in his mind, a rather sarcastic voice, sounding strangely like Kane, told him "oh yeah, you're not going to bend over for this guy. Just like you're not holding your breath waiting for him to kiss you."

"Don't," he heard and then realized that he said it. Somehow he did find the strength. Good to know. "I don't have time for this now," he explained. Even though Jared shouldn't require any kind of explanation and Jensen shouldn't feel like he ought to deliver one. But it was there, between them now.

That made Jared move away. Only so slightly, but enough for Jensen to be able to catch his own breath.

"You don't?" he asked curiously. But before Jensen managed to unscramble his brain, Jared looked at something or someone above Jensen's shoulder and his entire stance changed. The relaxed muscle tensed and Jared's eyes flashed silver. He leaned in and stole a quick, chaste kiss from Jensen. "Then maybe you'll find time later. I promise to make it worth it," he whispered into Jensen's ear with what could only be described as a predatory smile and he left, disappearing in the crowd.

It took Jensen a moment to wrap his mind around what just happened. Jensen hadn't spent much time around people who hadn't tried to kill him or weren't Chris or Steve, but he could see a clear change in Jared. It was sudden. The man who'd flirted with Katie in the diner, and had nearly kissed him just now had shifted into a dangerous predator.

It was like two different people. If Jensen had time for this, he'd probably spend the next few hours trying to find out what the hell this was about, and figure out which of the two was the real Jared. If he waited any longer, Kane would probably track him down and make his life more miserable than it already was, though.

He shook his head to clear his mind and concentrate on the matter at hand. Which, he reminded himself, wasn't Jared's smile, but whether or not the killer was here now. It didn't help that Jensen realized Jared was right. Too many people around. Most of them were probably spell casters, witches and wizards. But there were probably also other supernatural creatures. Jensen had seen a vampire's aura before and it was a rather traumatic experience, one he wouldn't want to repeat any time soon.

That meant his choices were limited. He didn't like to think that his entire trip here was wasted because he acted on a plan that sucked. Mostly because it was a sound plan, damn it. Just because some modifications were needed, didn't mean it was a terrible plan.

That thought comforted him a bit. After all, he had done some recon, now he could create a better plan, maybe even let Kane in on the entire thing and maybe he'd see Jared again. Which was completely irrelevant and Jensen didn't really want to think his brain was coming back to that particular fact over and over again.

He emptied his glass in one go and decided that he'd had enough of this place. He threw some bills onto the counter without counting them, pretty sure that the tip just made the bartender's night and moved towards the direction of the exit. He didn't look around, making a conscious effort not to try to find a familiar face. He had enough distractions as it was.

***

He got to the second "hot spot" two hours later, spending a good half an hour in a traffic jam while the police and first responders sorted out some sort of an accident. While he didn't really pay attention to what happened in the accident, it gave him some time to sort out what he already knew.

Most important was the brutal murder in Central Park. Jensen knew nothing about the victim, though he hoped Kane would be able to provide him with some background within the next few days. He knew slightly more about the magic present at the scene, most likely responsible for the death of the man.

It was dark magic. The caster was most likely angry at the time of spell casting. Or, if Jensen was to judge the situation based on his experience, angry all the time. The warlock held a lot of power, if his or her presence in the City was anything to go by. They either frequented Salem, or had been allowed to cast a powerful spell within the building's walls. Jensen made a mental note to ask Chris to look into the owners of the club.

Second, Adrianne, one of the more powerful beings in his City, and quite an evil one, was somehow connected to the entire thing. What bothered Jensen the most was that he had no idea where she factored in. It wasn't her signature he saw on the scene. In fact, he didn't sense her presence anywhere near it. He was sure would recognize it.

That suggested two possibilities. She was either connected to the victim, or to the killer.

If it was the victim, then she either wanted the guy dead, or she was behind it. Was the killer one of her kind?

The thought of it gave Jensen a headache the size of Texas. No, he did not want to consider that. Therefore, unless he was forced to acknowledge the possibility, he would be concentrating on other things.

Lost in thought, Jensen drove almost on auto-pilot. It was late evening and aside from the massive traffic jam caused by the accident, the streets were easy to navigate and didn't require much thinking. He got to the location near the river and parked the car close enough to allow for a quick exit, in case of an emergency. Funny how many of those happened in the line of his work.

Unlike the club, this spot was to the side, not easily visible from the street. There were no people around. If Jensen was to be a judge, he'd say the spot was a perfect place for bigger spells that required access to a natural source of energy. The idea that someone was casting spells powerful enough to require backup batteries was unsettling, especially since Jensen should be able to sense them. Disturbance in the Force, as they said. Which meant, the spells were concealed. Someone was hiding something. Something they didn't want interrupted.

Well fuck.

The reminder of what happened at the club, or rather what could've happened, fresh in his mind, Jensen looked around and considered his options. He could try and find out what spells had been cast here. More importantly, he could try to find out who had cast them. He was in the open, though, no matter how secluded the area appeared. The idea of doing a complicated enchantment that would leave him vulnerable to outside attacks left him uneasy. Then again, he didn't really have many people he could turn to for backup. Sure, he could've asked Kane, but if there was ever someone completely insensitive to magic, Chris was it.

Yeah, Jensen didn't have many options. Those he did have were the ones he would never be eager to ask for help. He didn't like to owe favors to people who could decide that they wanted to go to the dark side, so to speak, and tell him to look the other way. Being forced to grant favors like that was not high on Jensen's list.

Besides, how would his plea for help sound? 'Hey, it's Jensen. I need somebody to look out for innocent and not so innocent passerbys as I perform a rather awkward and complicated ritual to chart out spells previously cast in this area. There's a chance something will go terribly wrong and we will both die an undoubtedly painful death. Wanna help?'

Yeah. That would go very well with people. And if Jensen wanted to be honest with himself none of his friends, few that he had, were good enough to defend themselves against dark magic. Those who would be able to stand their ground, well, he didn't want any of them watching his back.

Jensen sighed heavily and rubbed his temple. He had wasted precious time debating this issue only to arrive at a conclusion that was completely unhelpful. He had to cast the damn enchantment in plain sight, without anyone to watch his back. Great.

'Fuck it', he thought and turned around. He spent the next several minutes leaning against his car, watching the empty space and wishing for a cigarette.

He concentrated on that thought, of the smoke filling his lungs, relaxing. In a way, it was ridiculous. He smoked, briefly, while he was in high school, and never felt the need to go back to that habit. But he learned that if you concentrate on one thing, something you could picture in vivid details, your brain would push everything else back.

It was a cheap substitute for meditation and cleansing ritual, but Jensen needed to improvise. He had to cut back on theatrics everybody in the magic circle loved so much and still get the results he wanted, not to mention that he needed to be able to tell Kane *something* in the morning. To somehow win the other man over. Jensen had no doubt the detective was still furious.

Jensen opened the trunk of his car and started to gather ingredients for the spell. A random thought came to him, and he decided to invest in one of those kits, like they had on CSI. Kane would probably love the professional consultant look. Or he'd mock Jensen mercilessly. Both, most likely.

Assembling what he needed wasn't as easy as one would suspect. He couldn't afford the meditation, he couldn't afford any candles; fire was a sure way of attracting unwanted attention. He tried not to think if a circle made of something other than candles would be weaker. Doubt only made magic fail.

 

Yes, his circle would work even if he only imagined it around himself. He was that bad of a motherfucker. He nodded confidently.

 

Before setting up, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. As before any big performance, he needed to relax. Once he pushed away any and all thoughts that could distract him, he concentrated on the matter at hand. Finding out what spells had been cast in the area recently and who cast them. That was the goal. He hoped, against all hopes, that he'd be able to get more than just the magical signature that lead him here.

 

"Doing" magic was easy. If you discounted all the preparation and the details that could get you killed if you missed anything, doing magic itself was easy. Like with meditation and rituals, all you needed was concentration and a clear idea of what you wanted to achieve. There were no multicolored sparks, no sounds of thunder, not even wind at very "special" moments. It was nothing like in the movies. It was quiet and almost anti-climatic. Unless you did it wrong. Then, it was very, very noisy.

 

Like reading auras and the lines, magic altered your perception, which was the main reason Jensen wanted someone with him. It wasn't as if he was blinded and saw nothing while performing spells. It's that he saw *too much*; his senses were assaulted with so much information he had to ignore the mortal aspects if he wanted to get anywhere, understand anything from the magical point of view. For lack of better terminology.

 

After he got his breathing under control, he started chanting, using the words to direct his will. First it was muttering, his voice getting firmer and firmer with each repetition. He felt energy gathering inside of him, a familiar all-powerful feeling. He slowly lowered himself onto his knees, feeling cold, hard ground through them, getting closer to the source, the essence he wanted to examine. When he felt completely connected with the world around him, especially the earth, he opened his eyes without hesitation.

 

It was always difficult to explain what one saw during enchantments like this. The actual images were hard to describe, and every brain translated them differently, into symbols each wizard could understand. Since every practitioner had a slightly different approach to magic and their points of reference varied, every wizard saw something different.

 

Jensen saw colors and shapes. His brain translated the magical energy into terms and ingredients he used in his magic. It was a flawed perception, especially if he came across something he was not familiar with, but more often than not it meant he made connections and found solutions all the faster.

 

When he opened his eyes he immediately recognized several spells. There was a localization spell, similar to one he used often, but customized to find a specific person. Who this spell was meant to locate, Jensen couldn't tell. There was a shield, protecting the caster from hostile spells, that made Jensen pause for a second to admire its elegance. Someone had used platinum instead of silver and while Jensen suspected it made the shield a bit less resistant to stronger spells, it was obvious the shield would last much longer.

 

There were a lot of dark shapes, something Jensen associated with negative energies. Black magic and violent spells. He saw blood, but he couldn't say whether it was blood used during the spell or if the spell somehow resulted in the victim bleeding... The latter would be consistent with what he saw that morning at the crime scene, but he didn't want to draw false conclusions.

 

He raised his hand to trace the shapes, trying to memorize the patterns and anything that would help him figure out the exact spell that had been cast here. Like memorizing the magic signature from the crime scene, it was a slow process, but he wanted to get every detail right. He was almost done, almost ready to break his concentration, confident he would remember everything, when through all the magical details, he heard a very distinctive sound of struggle and fight.

 

He turned towards the sound, raising his arms in a defensive spell he had prepared just in case he had to defend himself, at the same time forcing his mind to dissolve the magical perception of the world so that he wasn't completely blinded in a possible fight. He caught a glimpse of something silver before his vision readjusted. Even then, he had to blink, surprised by what he saw.

 

There on the ground, mere feet from him, was Jared, struggling with somebody for a knife. For a second, while the scene before his eyes sunk in, Jensen felt panic raising inside him. There were times when he went for months without seeing his friends, neighbors and the people he was actually connected to. Here, a complete stranger, whom he'd met only that morning, and strongly suspected of being not completely human, crossed his path for the third time in a day.

 

Was he there to kill Jensen? That idea wasn't very pleasant, Jensen liked himself alive, but he never had any strong faith in coincidence, and killing him was the only valid reason he could come up with. If that was the case, who was this other man? A kind passer-by? Not to mention the knife didn't exactly inspire Jensen's peace of mind.

 

"Are you done finger-painting in the air? I could use some help!"

 

Jared's voice pulled him back to reality. He noted, fleetingly, that the other man's voice was free of any flirtation or warmth, emotions Jensen noted during their previous encounters. There was some slight irritation and a very obvious strain. He was about to lose the struggle he was in.

Jensen made his decision within seconds. He leaned forward without thinking and hit the ground with his open palm. He could feel the magical energy hit the earth as his hand connected with the ground, but where his body was stopped, quite painfully, the magic kept going forward, rushing into the earth. Jensen whispered the right words, words that always found their way into his mouth when he didn't have time to consider his options. Those two words focused the energy he channeled into the ground and Jensen could see the changes in the ground as the energy rushed towards the men.

His spell made Jared's opponent lost his footing, slipping on what obviously was some wet grass, the knife was knocked out of his hand, disappearing from sight. Jared managed to use the sudden change of circumstance to his advantage, pushing the man away and turning the tables on him.

Jensen tried to ignore the sudden thrill he felt, watching Jared pin the other man to the ground. The thrill vanished when Jared wrapped his arms around the other man's neck and twisted it. Jensen heard a rather distinctive crack and saw the body of the man go limp.

Jared stood up and started to dust himself off. He raised his eyes to meet Jensen's and smiled the same brilliant smile that had left Jensen breathless the last time. Now, with a dead body between them, Jensen found himself completely immune to the man's charms.

"Why the hell did you do that?" he asked, angry and frustrated, ignoring the possible danger Jared might've been posing.

"I was saving your life?" Jensen ignored the very obvious 'duh' tone accompanying the sentence.

"You killed a man!" Jensen would hear the crack of bones every time he thought about Jared. Which he wouldn't be doing at all. Not at all, really. It was just a matter of principle. You shouldn't just go around killing people.

"He would have killed you if I hadn't. What with you going off on a magical trips without anyone watching your very mortal ass. A very attractive ass, if I can say so," that last sentence was accompanied by a flirty grin, with that slight predatory gleam in Jared's eyes.

Jensen felt the need to touch the other man, to rub his thumb against his full, red lips. He could feel his hand twitch, ready to be raised, to feel the warm skin beneath the fingertips.

Instead, he dug his fingers into his own thigh, to stop himself from following through with that idea.

"Stop that," he ordered. Jared just blinked, confusion written all over his face. "Stop that," Jensen repeated. "Whatever you're doing to me, stop it."

Jared tilted his head and looked at Jensen. He didn't just glance over, like most people did, but really *looked*, making Jensen feel naked, exposed. He hated to be under such scrutiny.

"It bothers you? That you want me?" Jared asked, his tone curious, stripped of any agenda, it seemed.

"It bothers me that you think it's okay to manipulate me like that. So stop doing it. I don't know why you're following me, but stop trying to *make* me like you."

There, he said it. And managed not to wonder aloud whether or not the attraction he felt was something he'd feel anyway or if it was just the magic. He didn't want to think about it right then.

For a moment, it seemed that Jared would say something in response, perhaps to defend himself or something similar. But at the last possible moment, he changed his mind, it seemed.

"He worked for Adrianne, you know." he motioned towards the body. "Not her kind, just a mortal wannabe."

"What?" Jensen's eyes widened in shock at that news.

"That's why I followed you today. She wants you dead for some reason. Which is good enough for me to want to keep you alive."

The logical part of Jensen's brain noted, rather sarcastically, that he shouldn't be surprised. Adrianne warned him that if he took the job she'd have to stop him. He would be an idiot to assume she made empty threats. Dealing with that danger would have been easier without a dead body lying a few feet away, a gruesome reminder of what was in store for him.

"Who the hell are you?" he couldn't stop himself from asking.

"Jared. Hi," he smiled and gave him a little wave. It was a gesture so unlike what Jensen would imagine a killer would do.

"Please don't let me stop you from elaborating," and no, Jensen didn't even try to hide the sarcasm.

Jared sighed and looked around then at Jensen again. "I don't suppose you'll help me hide the body..." he mused and without waiting for an answer, he grabbed his victim legs and started to drag the body towards the river.

Jensen's years of working with the Police Department told him that the water would wash away trace evidence. He briefly entertained a thought to wipe away the magical traces off the body, but he dismissed it quickly, cursing himself for even considering something like that.

Watching Jared get rid of the body, Jensen felt something heavy settle into his stomach. Something told him that this would come back to bite him in the ass.

***

He woke up the next day in his own apartment, in his own bed. He immediately considered this an improvement and even smiled to himself. That was before the events of the previous day caught up with him. The murder, Adrianne, the mysterious warlock, Jared... And the body that would no doubt float back into his life within the next few days.

Not to mention, he still knew very little about what actually happened. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to skip the precinct visit. Sure, Kane would be furious, possibly murderous, but Jensen would have more time to put two and two together. And find out how Jared figured into all of this.

After Jensen left Jared by the river, while the other man was cleaning up his mess, he was on Jensen's mind almost constantly.

He rubbed his face, trying to wake up and clear his head. He walked towards the bathroom on autopilot, when he registered sounds coming from the kitchen. He froze. Did Adrianne learn her lackey had failed and decided to fix it?

He felt panic raising. Without conscious effort, he gathered all the energy he could muster this early in the morning. Ready to defend himself, he walked into the kitchen.

"Goddamn it Kane! I almost kill you right there and then!"

He breathed a sigh of relief and forced himself to relax.

"You wouldn't hurt a fly," Chris said with confidence and pushed a steaming cup of coffee towards Jensen.

Okay, so maybe Kane would live to see another day. After deciding that and letting himself savour the coffee - better than his usual - he added it as another reason to keep Kane.

"How did you get in?" Jensen moved to another problem.

"Door was open," Chris shrugged.

"No, it wasn't." One thing Jensen was always sure of. Even mortally wounded, he always made sure to lock his door. He might've had shields around his apartment, but those who sometimes came after him weren't always supernatural creatures. Sometime he managed to rub a mortal the wrong way only to realize when it was too late that that mortal was a criminal with anger management issues.

"Details," Kane waved at him dismissively and moved around Jensen's kitchen as if it was his own. "Do you want toast?" he asked. Jensen would say the tone was innocent, but Kane didn't do innocent.

Jensen nodded and took another sip of his coffee. "Why are you here? I thought we were supposed to meet at the precinct..." Even though he was planning on not showing up, Chris didn't know that... right?

"You wouldn't show up anyway."

Or he did know. The shock had to show up on his face because Chris just rolled his eyes.

"Please, Jen. If you had anything, you'd have called even if it was the middle of the night."

"I could have something..." even in his own ears, he didn't sound convincing.

Kane busied himself with the toast, but Jensen could swear he could hear a rather doubtful sound.

Jensen sighed. "I checked out two of the hot spots I located yesterday. One is this little area by the river and one is a club in Brooklyn. You might want to look into that one. It's called 'Salem' and the same guy who killed our victim was there. I can't tell for sure whether he was there many times or just once. But if he was there just once then he got the owner's permission to perform some really powerful magic--"

"Permission?"

"It's not like you can just waltz into somebody else's place and start casting spells. Without permission the energies you channel are... watered down, for lack of a better word. Just like you can't just enter a place without permission without leaving a big chunk of your powers outside."

"I didn't know that..." Chris sounded almost surprised. Jensen stopped himself from saying that of course he didn't know that. There was a reason why Jensen was the consultant here...

"Have you found anything else?" Kane asked.

Jensen rubbed his temple. He didn't want to say anything about Jared. It would only complicate matters and distract them from the matter at hand.

"The site by the river is a bit tricky. I did manage to work out what sort of spell he cast there, but I'm unfamiliar with the details, so I need to hit the books." He hated research, but it was either that or draw conclusions that might've been false. And deadly.

Chris took a bite of his toast, taking quick notes in his notebook with his free hand.

"I'll check out that club, who knows, might have some connections to the victim, if not the killer," he sighed, clearly unhappy. "We still haven't IDed the victim. Fingerprints or facial recognition were useless because of the damage. We're running DNA, but Dave said it might take up to two days, so..."

Yeah, that wasn't a very good news.

"Well... Your guys can run weather patterns, if they're bored. Sometimes strong magic, if not channeled properly, like when it's accompanied by strong emotions, causes the weather go a little bit crazy. Freak storms, earth quakes too... It's a long shot, but anything helps, right?"

Kane kept nodding and taking notes, showing exactly how good he was at multitasking.When he finished, he put away the pen, finished his toast and looked back at Jensen.

"Now," Chris wiped his hands and turned his entire attention to Jensen. The intense gaze had always made Jensen felt uneasy. Like he was about to get his ass kicked if he gave the wrong answer to a very tricky question. No amount of magical protection would be able to help him.

"With no Steve around... Tell me about all the dangers you're facing, move to the part why I can't help and finish with a nice little promise to never leave me voice mails that might make Steve worry and try to protect me without telling me."

Ah. Jensen suspected at some point this would come back. He really should start maintaining a list of things that might come back to bite him.

"I argued with him," Chris continued. "And I had to apologize to him later. I do not apologize to people, Jensen. And the fact that I had to apologize to Steve makes me really unhappy. So explain. And make it good."

Jensen sighed. The question now was how much he could share. Kane could take care of himself, yes, but sometimes even knowing something could turn out to be deadly.

"The victim was killed with magic, which we already knew. By a very mean, very angry and very powerful warlock. The fact we're looking for him is dangerous enough."

"But that's not all..." it wasn't even a question. After all, Chris Kane was good at what he did, and drawing conclusions from incomplete material was in his job description.

"No. There are... outside parties interested in the outcome of this case," Jensen said carefully. Kane didn't comment on the choice of words. He simply raised his eyebrow, clearly waiting for Jensen to continue.

"After I got home from the crime scene, I had a visitor. And by visitor I mean she was already inside."

"Someone broke in?" Chris asked and looked around for any signs of crime. Always a cop...

"In a way. She... teleported in, from lack of a better word. And teleported out, after she said what she wanted to say."

"But I thought you couldn't use magic inside someone else's home without permission..."

Yes. That part was in Kane's primer. One Jensen prepared for his unit at the very beginning of his consulting gig.

To be honest, he kinda dumbed it up for them. Just a little.

"No one with magic can cross a threshold without leaving a huge chunk of their power behind. And casting spells without permission makes them unpredictable, because you can only access a small percentage of your actual power..."

"So the woman who magicked in..."

"Was pretty much at the top of the food chain," Jensen told him, even though judging from Chris' face, the detective already knew that. Or strongly suspected.

Hearing it just made him worry.

"What did she want?" he asked, clearly moving to something else, so he didn't have to go into denial about how trully fucked up they were.

"She asked me to not investigate. Said it would be a pity to see me dead."

"That's why you called and left the voicemail," Chris made another conclusion that was right on the spot. Jensen sometimes forgot how good of an investigator Kane was.

"Yeah... I should've known better."

"Yeah. You should've. So. Now, what do we do about her?"

"Nothing," and Jensen couldn't stress that enough. On the list of things he absolutely didn't want to do the Apocalypse was below taking on Adrianne. And while he didn't have any hard evidence as to exactly how powerful she was, he had an ugly suspicion that she could smash him and everyone he cared about without even breaking a sweat. Yeah, no taking on Adrianne. Ever.

"Come on, Jen. There has to be something we can do..."

"Yes. We can try and solve this case while hoping she doesn't actually take this as a personal insult and decide to wipe us off the face of the earth."

Kane rolled his eyes and Jensen had a feeling that his friend didn't really comprehend how dangerous their correct situation was.

"You're such a drama queen, Jenny. Honestly."

While Jensen glared at the other man, Chris finished his own coffee and stood up.

"Okay. I need to go back to the precinct and do some actual police work. Call me if you find anything," he looked at Jensen firmly, "I mean it, Jen. No playing the hero. Keep me updated."

Jensen nodded, even though he already knew he would be withholding information from Kane.

* * *

Despite what most people thought, Jensen didn't have all the occult books ever written at his apartment. He didn't have that much space, for one. And more importantly, he didn't have that kind of money to be able to buy all the books that could help him during his research. So while he did own several books he needed access to more. For researching anything he truly knew nothing about he always went to the one place in New York City that stored almost every magic, occult and supernatural book ever published. The Institute of the Study of the Ancient World Library over at NYU.

True, Jensen wasn't a student there, but thanks to his friendship with the night librarian, Eliza, he was allowed on the lower levels, even though every time he had to pay her and come in through the service entrance. But the access was what he really cared about. A guy had to do what a guy had to do...

Anyway, it wasn't as if he could just go to the library, take a random book on incantations and simply find the spell he was looking for. He didn't know the exact purpose of the spell, other than the fact that it couldn't be anything good, so he had to go slightly around it.

He had to start with dark spells and rituals he was familiar with and work his way from there.

He called Eliza to make sure she'd be there to let him in and left a voicemail on Kane's phone. He kept it short, telling him he was going to the library to research. Surely, this voicemail wouldn't get him in trouble?

That part out of the way, Jensen tried to clean up a little. He wanted to at least pass for somebody who could be a student at NYU. A graduate or something. The problem with being a wizard was that you could never pass as anybody but yourself. Jensen suspected it had something to do with all the protective metals worn by wizards, the leather, the tattoos. Or, in case of Jensen, the permanent five o'clock shadow, bags under his eyes and the general junkie look he couldn't, for some reason, get rid of.

"Jesus, you look like killing you right now would put you out of your misery," Eliza greeted him when he showed up by the service entrance and texted her.

"Thanks. Your cheerful attitude always helps me feel better," he smiled despite himself.

"It's one of my superpowers," she said and let him in. "I use it to fight vampires and zombies."

Jensen knew she was joking, but at that particular moment he just blinked, factored in her serious tone and looked at her, with a frown. "You're joking, right?"

"Nope," she informed him and motioned for him to follow her. They walked the familiar corridor that lead to the maintenance offices. "After hours, right before dawn, I leave work to fight the forces of darkness. I'm known as one of the best vampire hunters in the entire world. I'm Tiffani, the Vampire Slayer."

She looked at him before opening doors to the main library area. "Tiffani with an 'i'," she added and snorted. "God, messing with you gets easier and easier. You really need some time off, Jen. Honestly."

"Yeah," Jensen was both irritated and embarrassed that he even considered for a second Eliza might've been serious. "I keep telling the bad guys to give me a break, let me recharge my batteries, hell, maybe even go to Aruba for a week or so... They're not as understanding of my limits as one would think."

"Bastards!"

They traded comments in a low voices, as they made their way through the main area. Jensen used that time to look around, see how many people were inside, thanking God it wasn't finals. He preferred his research to be done with as few people around as possible. He didn't have to stay on guard that way.

When they reached the door leading to the basement, where all the older texts were stored, Eliza turned to him and raised her hand, finger pointed at him. Her face was clear of any of the mockery or humor she sported during their banter.

"Okay, rules. We're having inventory within the next two days, so no books leave this library. I'm serious Jensen, I don't care how much you need a book you find here, it stays exactly where you found it. If I find any book on you when you're leaving, your free pass here ends. Got it?"

Jensen nodded. "Got it." It looked like he would have to make extensive notes... Joy.

***

The precinct where the Special Investigation Unit had its headquarters was one of the smaller ones. And even though Jensen wasn't exactly a daily guest there, he could easily name most of the cops there. Or at least recognize their faces. They knew him too. Most of them mocked him behind his back, or to his face, not taking his status and what he did seriously. He ignored them, knowing they were lucky for not knowing what was actually out there in the world.

Special Investigations had their headquarters on the third floor, and all six detectives there not only respected Jensen, most of the actually liked him. He liked them back. One had to admire the fact that knowing they were practically defenseless against the evil hiding in the shadows, they still did their best to protect the ungrateful bastards, pardon, the citizens of the Big Apple.

He walked in, and without looking around he walked towards the elevator, only stopping once to briefly wave his consultant ID at the front desk and the officer on the shift. He walked into the elevator and quickly pressed the button for the third floor. He didn't want anybody else to get in, so he let out a relieved sigh when the elevator door closed.

It was not that he didn't like people in his personal space, well, he didn't, but he could share an elevator with another person. It wasn't that he didn't like elevators. It was just the fact that this place, the precinct, with all the sad stories discussed within its walls, the violence and pain and everything, Jensen's skin crawled every time he had to spend time here. It made Jensen twitchy. Kane probably picked up on that and it was the reason why he showed up at Jensen's apartment.

With what he'd discovered, Jensen simply had to talk to Chris. And given the time of day, the precinct was the best choice.

"Jesus, Jenny, sit down, before you fall over," he was greeted immediately after entering the main room.

"I don't look all that bad," Jensen told Chris, slightly insulted, but sat down anyway.

"Have you even slept?"

"Not much," he shrugged. "I spent the entire night researching one of the bigger spells our not so friendly killer cast."

That seemed to get Kane's attention. "So you found something?"

Jensen nodded and watched Chris smile, satisfaction evident on his face.

"That's great. It's show and tell today, then. Because I was about to call you about the stuff I found out."

Jensen motioned with his hand. "You go first. I still don't know how to dumb what I found out down enough for you to understand."

He was rewarded with a not so gentle punch to the arm. Yeah, lack of sleep did nothing to improve his survival instinct.

"And I used to wonder why you can't find any other clients..."

"Hey, I have other clients," he tried not to sound like a petulant child at that, he really did. And he refused to admit that he might've failed. Still, he had other clients apart from the NYPD. He was managing alright.

Kane just looked at him, doubtfully.

"I found out who the owner of Salem is. Let me tell you, it took some serious digging. I'm still not sure how our rookie found that out." Chris stopped and reached for one of the folders he had on his desk. "It's Jeff Morgan. He owns the place and three neighbouring buildings."

Jensen sat straighter in his chair, the name catching his attention immediately. Suddenly he was no longer tired, as if the surge of adrenaline, worry and fear woke him up completely.

Jensen wasn't always completely up to date with non-magical events in the city, he was often more concerned with surviving vampire attacks and not blowing up his apartment. It would have been difficult not to know the name though. Morgan was rumored to be in charge of the most powerful crime syndicate in NYC. His organisation was alleged to be behind most of the big heists, gun trafficking and drugs. A year or so ago Jensen, checked to see if the man had anything to do with more magical crimes that often happened, but he'd come up blank. He did manage to find out Morgan wasn't a practitioner. Which, in a way, was a relief.

Now, Chris was telling him that Jeff Morgan owned a club whose clientele was exclusively those who had magic and knew how to use it. Which meant he was connected after all, to the magical community. And that was NOT a good news.

Kane, maybe unaware of the sudden change in Jensen, or maybe expecting it from the start, continued sharing what he had found out.

"We contacted him about access to the club and its records, in connection to the current murder investigation. Because he's such a law abiding citizen, he promised total cooperation. Which means we can't do anything, not even enter the club without a warrant, which we don't have enough to get. And he knows it. He still plays it innocent, saying it's a private club and he's required to look out for the members, who value their privacy. All that crap."

"In other words, you got nowhere?" Jensen really tried not to make it sound like an accusation.

"Unfortunately. Morgan might not be guilty of this particular murder, but even if, he'd still go out of his way not to provide useful information. Just to annoy me."

Jensen grimaced. That certainly would slow them down. If they couldn't discard at least one suspect, they wouldn't get anywhere.

"So Morgan's still a suspect. Well, our only actual suspect."

They fell silent for a moment. Each of them contemplating their current position, with Jensen trying very hard not to define it with any words that could be substituted with 'screwed' or 'fucked'. Staying positive, right?

"And what did you find out during your all-nighter?" Chris asked, to not only break the silence but to move their investigation at least a little bit further.

Jensen made himself more comfortable and reached to the inside of his coat, fishing out the notebook that held all his notes and conclusions.

"After the club, I went to the second spot I showed you on the map. The area is pretty secluded, even though it's quite close to the street. It's near the river too, which, is totally not a good thing. The river provided natural energy flow. Your very own personal power generator for spells, if you will. The guy performed some big spells there, but they were shielded from the outside world. That's why I had no idea somebody this powerful was in the City."

He raised his hand to silence Chris the moment the other man opened his mouth to ask a questions.

"Ask me later. I need to get this all out without interruptions for it to make any sense." He opened his notebook the the pages he filled while in the library. "The spell cast there was a location spell, I couldn't tell who it was targeted for because I read the casting wrong. It wasn't supposed to find a person. It was supposed to find an object. At first I thought I got it all wrong, because there was blood all over that spell, and it made me think it was what killed out victim. He bled out, right? So the spell couldn't be about finding something. Things don't kill people. People kill people."

Jensen saw confusion on Chris' face, but ignored it for now. He didn't want to lose his trail of thought. He quickly turned a few pages in his notebook to reveal several drawings he copied from one of the books he found.

"Then, I found this book on blood magic. I figured if one approach didn't make much sense I should try looking at it from a different point of view. I went with blood. Started with the Celts, but they were too ritualistic about their blood magic, so I branched out. I mapped out the blood part of the spell and crossed referenced it with the rituals I found. It's disturbing what the students at NYU can find in their library. I just hope they don't realize how real that stuff is," Jensen shook his head getting distracted for a second.

He pulled himself together. "Anyway. I finally realized that the blood part of the spell wasn't actually about bleeding at all. It was a description of an artifact. An amulet, to be exact. An object of power, hence the blood. Our killer was looking for it. My guess? Our victim was the one who had it. When I was at the scene, there was a sense of hurry about him. He could've been a courier, in hurry to get to his destination. But that's just me speculating."

Jensen took a deep breath. There. He summarized hours and hours of research in maybe three minutes. In a way he felt cheated.

And then, when Chris hadn't responded, Jensen frowned.

"I can't believe I'm about to say it, but I think you need to dumb it down for me a little. You lost me at blood. Ignore the history part you no doubt want to touch on. Just small words on how you got to the final conclusion."

"Okay..." Jensen rubbed his temples. "Small words. Casting spells, you need power. Power is something natural, it's everywhere. It surrounds you but it's also inside you. It's what keeps you going. It's life. When you cast a spell from your own batteries, from lack of a better word, you get tired, you can even die if you take too much of your own power, or if somebody else takes it from you. The same thing's with blood. You need blood to live. If you lose too much of it, you die. So, a long time ago some cultures figured the power is in the blood, and they started to use it to cast spells. They mostly used somebody else's blood. Ritual sacrifices, battle magic, stuff like that. They weren't even wrong. There is a lot of power in blood. But blood is also something that attracts a lot of really dark forces, creatures that feed on blood. Blood isn't pure. Basically, blood magic is too often connected with death which taints it in a way. Am I making sense to you?" He asked just in case Kane needed a simpler explanation.

"Blood is power. I get it. There are different kinds of magic, got that too. Why would someone mixed them up to find some pendant?"

"I can't be sure. But if I was looking for something and had to improvise to incorporate a new incantation into my usual spells..." Jensen trailed off, trying to find the right words. "Okay, I run on regular batteries, Jesus, I hate metaphors like that. But it's more or less accurate. I use my own energy to power up my spells. From time to time, I use the natural sources like rivers and stuff. The only thing that would make me incorporate blood magic into my spell-casting would be that the object I was looking was originated in blood magic."

"So some bad ass blood sacrificing madman created an amulet and the killer needed to use some blood magic to find it."

"Basically. Yes. A very powerful one."

"So he found our victim, and when the guy didn't want to give the amulet to him, he killed him. Why is it so important?"

Kane was asking all the right questions. Unfortunately Jensen didn't know the answers. They fell silent once again, but this time they were far more frustrated. Knowing that the solution, the killer, was right there in front of them, but they were missing parts so important that the whole picture didn't make sense.

"If we're asking questions I don't know answers to why don't we also ask whether or not Morgan is connected to this entire thing. And if so, how? And let's not forget to ask what Adrianne has to do with it all."

"One problem at the time, Jen. If you keep listing them all right now, I might give up and go slit my wrists."

"Can I get a raise before you do that?" a new voice came from behind Jensen. A voice he heard before.

Jensen turned immediately and found himself staring at Jared. Jared in a rumpled suit that made him look right at home with other cops in the building.

Jared smiled at him but didn't say anything. Instead he moved his attention back to Chris and handed him a folder.

"You might want to take a look at this. Doc finally IDed the victim. A Tim Hutton, lawyer from Manhattan. He apparently had a habit of jogging every morning, to get in the right state of mind. According to his doorman."

"Thanks Jay," Chris nodded and took the folder, reading whatever it was that Jared didn't tell him. Jensen kept staring at Jared, not sure how to proceed. Just two nights ago, he watched this guy kill somebody, and now... He was he a cop? Working with the Special Investigations?

When he was done with the report, Chris looked up and saw Jensen looking at the newcomer. He smirked, drawing his own conclusions, which were no doubt completely off base.

"Jensen, this is Jared Padalecki, my very own minion and Unit's rookie. Jay, this is Jensen Ackles, our consultant. Play nice kids, I need to talk to Dave about this autopsy report," he said and left them.

Jensen wondered if he actually had questions for the Medical Examiner, or if he just wanted to leave them alone. Jensen hated Kane right now. A lot.

Jared walked around him and sat in the newly vacated chair. He looked at Jensen and smiled a giddy smile. He waved, mimicking his wave from the night by the river.

"Hi."

Jensen narrowed his eyes. "What are you doing here?" he hissed, not wanting to be overheard. Ridiculous, since nobody was paying attention to them, and there weren't many people around in the first place.

"I work here," came an instant response. "You heard Kane. I'm the rookie. Started a few weeks ago. Got transferred from another precinct as a punishment," he grinned at that. It was clear he didn't consider this post a punishment.

"I bet you love working here, with Chris not knowing who, or maybe what you are... Are you even human?"

Jared shrugged. "Not really, but that's not the point."

"What is the point?"

"The point is that you're not going to say anything, because that would raise questions about what really happened two nights ago and why didn't you report some mysterious guy killing an assassin right in front of you," smugness was written all over Jared's face. "And nobody will believe you if you even try to tell them it was me. Everybody loves Jay. Even you," Jared pointed out, letting his gaze sweep over Jensen's body. "You're just playing hard to get."

Jensen leaned forward, ignoring the charged air between them. "You're somehow connected to this murder, I just can't put my finger on it."

And once again, the expression on Jared's face changed suddenly, showing another facet to the man. "That's the best part. It's a complete coincidence I was assigned to this case. One of Kane's men got the flu on the day of the murder and Kane needed help."

"What are you not telling me?" There had to be something. Jared was in two of the places Jensen sensed the presence of the killer. Either he was following Jensen, or he was following the killer. Jensen had to know what Jared's interest in this murder was.

"Have coffee with me."

Jensen blinked, completely thrown off by the sudden change of the subject. "What?"

"Have coffee with me. There's a stand on the corner, the guy has a great coffee. Come with me, and I might tell you," Jared smiled. Jensen wanted to decline, but if coffee was what it would take to get another piece of this puzzle.

"Fine," he said and watched Jared smile transform in the breathtaking expression that almost blinded Jensen. It made him want to give in to whatever Jared would suggest next. He shook his head and dug his fingernails into his thigh. The sharp pain bringing him back from the haze.

"Stop doing it. I already told you not to manipulate me like this," he hissed and stood up, heading for the elevator.

Jared quickly caught up with him. "Sorry, I really didn't mean to," he apologized, actually sounding genuine.

Jensen knew it would be a very long and stressful coffee.

***

Jensen managed to keep silent all the way down to the front entrance of the precinct. He didn't say anything while they walked to the coffee stand and waited for their turn. He was surprised by the amount of patience he showed. He let Jared pay for their coffees. He took a sip from his cup and walked to the side, feeling Jared follow him closely.

"I'm here. We're having coffee. Talk," he demanded in a tired tone. He had enough of secrecy.

"Technically, I said I might tell you. I didn't say I will."

"Jared, I'm not in the mood to play games. So far you've managed to do whatever you wanted, but don't even think I won't zap your ass in a very unpleasant way. I'm really close to doing just that. Talk."

He watched as Jared took a sip, probably buying himself more time. Jensen raised his eyebrow and muttered a string of words into his coffee. He felt the hair on the back of his neck raise from the sudden electricity he released with the minor spell. He watched, with enormous satisfaction, as Jared stood straighter and grimaced visibly. He took another sip of his coffee to chase away the sudden exhaustion. He shouldn't be wasting his energy on what was more of a prank than a proper spell.

"Fine," this time the word came from Jared. "Despite what you might think, I actually am a cop. It's a hobby. The transfer to SI was an accident, I wasn't planning it. It's harder to hide what I am around cops who actually know what is going on in the shadows."

Jensen could understand that, it still didn't explain though what Jared was and what his connection to the case was. He was about to question the other man when Jared started talking again.

"Look, New York City is a pretty sweet deal for someone like me. Humans take weird at face value, don't get shocked by random supernatural creatures, they just think there's some costume party going on. The city is basically owned by vampires, the Courts in a delicate agreement to keep the status quo and keep on not getting in each other's way. Between their possession of the City, and your do-gooder inability to look the other way, the supernatural community is pretty well balanced. Nobody's really willing to cause any sort of an upset. But Jeff Morgan learned about our existence recently and he saw profit."

That explained Salem. Jensen wasn't surprised that somebody tried to profit from the magical community. After all, people selling herbs, books and artifacts zeroed in on that revenue stream long time ago. Right now Jeff Morgan and his syndicate were no doubt playing catch up.

"Morgan learned about magic. He made a deal with the Red Court vampires. The other Courts aren't very pleased with a mortal stepping in the Game. It's clear Morgan wants to use magic and Reds to gain more power in the City. The balance has been upset, with mortals suddenly in the equation. It made the Winter lady think she can use this situation and move in. And nobody wants that."

Jensen frowned. "Winter lady?"

"Adrianne? The fairy princess who put the hit on your head?"

Jensen almost choked on his coffee. Somehow, he didn't think Jared meant that as a description of Adrianne's looks. A Fae. That explained a lot.

He felt as if he has been punched in the stomach. The air left his lungs, and his shoulders slumped. Great. Just great.

"And you?" he asked resigned. "How do you feature into all this? Who are you?"

"I'm Jared," the answer came quickly. Something had to show on Jensen's face, irritation or anger, because Jared sighed and took a sip. "I'm a White Court vampire. We and the Winter Court... Let's just say we're not exactly best friends. If Adrianne drops dead right this minute it won't be soon enough."

"Vampire..." Jensen had a problem wrapping his head around that. Jared didn't act like the vampires Jensen met in the past. He didn't feel like the vampires Jensen had met...

"What? You don't believe me?"

"You don't fit the vampire look..."

Jared raised his eyebrow and smirked. "I could try and sparkle, if you ask nicely."

Jensen couldn't help himself and rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean."

Jared shrugged. "You are what you eat. Reds feed on blood, Blacks on pain. I feed on life force, it's much more fun. Especially the way I do it." He waited a second, or maybe he just waited for Jensen to take another sip of his coffee. "I feed through sex," he added and watched as Jensen choked again. Bastard.

***

"Where the fuck did you go?" Kane greeted them with annoyed expression the moment they stepped back into the bullpen.

"We went out for a coffee. Discussed the magical politics while at it. Did you know that the bling everybody's after is like this Holy Grail thing?" Jared asked innocently, the perfect image of a rookie, who didn't know better.

"Really, Padalecki? And how do you know that?" Chris asked, Jensen recognized the tone. It was silence before the storm moment, and maybe the fact that Jared wasn't human meant he would live to see another day...

"Jen told me."

Which was an outright lie. Jared knew more about the mysterious artifact than Jensen. He was about to tell Jared not to use the damn nickname when Chris smirked and raised his eyebrow.

"Jen, is it?"

Jensen couldn't help himself, he blushed. He didn't mean to. It wasn't as if he allowed Jared to refer to him with this nickname, to the contrary. But what Chris was implying with that all-knowing smirk was exactly what Jensen wanted to happen. He would never allow it, not with Jared being what he was, but it didn't change the fact that he wanted to. Wanted it a lot.

"Kane, is there a reason your personality is shining through? Because I'd rather focus on that," and not on the denial he was going through right now.

"As a matter of fact yeah. While you were trying to get into my rookie's pants, I had Dave run some additional tests on our victim. Not to mention I had to pick up the report from AV, because my minion was busy..." The glare made both Jared and Jensen squirm, even though, intellectually, Jensen knew they didn't do anything wrong.

"I had them run security camera footage near the club and near the second spot," Chris continued. Jensen froze. If that was the case, Chris would find out that Jensen met Jared before today... He would know about the assassin...

Jensen didn't dare look at Jared.

"Apart from your sad excuse for a car at both of those places, there were two more car that stopped there within the last three days. We even got a partial registration on one of them, because the boys in AV are fucking geniuses."

Jensen forced himself to breathe. Then he attempted acting normally.

"And you're telling me this because..."

"Because after some spectacular police work, by which I mean yelling at techs because I didn't have a rookie to yell at, I got us an ID of the owner of one of the cars. None other than Paul Weasley. Who happens to work for Miss Dobrev. Who we know is..." He trailed off letting Jensen jump in.

"A Red Court vampire..."

"Yeah. I admit, it wasn't a suspect I was hoping for, and took me a bit by surprise, but right now I will take what I'm given."

"You might not be too far off anyway," Jensen said, recalling what Jared told him just a few minutes ago. "Morgan is rumored to side with Reds, they are working out some sort of a deal. He might still be involved."

That news clearly pleased Kane as he smiled and grabbed his jacket.

"I think we should bring in Mr Weasley for questioning."

"Hey Boss, why don't I wrap up here with the rest of the evidence, while you and our consultant go?" Jensen recognized the smile. It was the one that always made him want to agree with whatever Jared was saying. And Chris did just that. He looked at Jared and smiled, his eyes losing focus for a second.

"You do that. What's the point of having a rookie, if you don't do the tedious paperwork... Come on Jenny, let's bring our precious suspect in..." And he went towards the elevator.

"What the hell did you do?" Jensen once again glared at Jared.

"I can't move openly against the Red Court. It would be considered an act of war. I might be a cop, but I'm a White first. This is just a hobby. I told you."

"Don't do that again. Chris is a good guy, he doesn't deserve this!" Jensen pushed Jared, ignored the tingling he felt when his hand made contact with Jared's broad chest and turned to join Chris before the other man left without him.

***

They drove in Chris' car to the nice apartment building where Weasley lived. Jensen suspected Dobrev and some of the Red Court vampires lived here. Which was precisely why he didn't want Kane to go on his own. Reds maybe weren't the most powerful spell casters, but they were still far stronger and faster than a regular human. Jensen's magic would probably level the field enough for them to come out of it all alive, if Weasley decided not to cooperate.

While Chris parked his car, Jensen detached a pendant, that doubled for a lucky charm from his bracelet and pushed it into Chris' hand. At the questioning look, he shrugged.

"Just put it somewhere close to your body. You're an annoying bastard, but I'd rather you not fall for a simple vampire charm the very first second we go in," he said dismissively. Chris stared at him for a second and then without a word, he hooked the silver on the chain around his neck. Jensen knew that there was a gold wedding ring Chris would never wear on his finger on that chain. But he wore it around his neck, under his shirt. Jensen couldn't wish for his protective pendant to be closer and a better protection than that.

"Okay. Let's do this Jenny," Kane said and got out of the car. Jensen followed closely.

Chris waved his badge in front of the doorman's face and continued to the elevator. Jensen discreetly swiped his hand over the cables he knew were no doubt under the reception desk, muttering a spell, hopefully disabling the electronics for now. Better safe than sorry, and they really didn't want vampires to have time to prepare an ambush, while they rode on the elevator. Twelve fucking floors to panic and think up worst case scenarios. It was not Jensen's favourite entertainment.

"Why are you so tense?" Kane asked, his voice lacking the usual mocking tone.

"We're probably going up against vampires who aren't exactly law abiding citizens. There's only two of us, my magic has seen better days and your bullets won't even kill them."

"We just want to ask some questions..."

"Remember the last time we just asked some questions of a supernatural creature?"

"I see your point," Chris reached for the gun. "Just in case," he said when Jensen raised his eyebrow.

They walked slowly and quietly to the right apartment door. Jensen knew it was useless, you couldn't exactly sneak up on a creature that had super hearing. But it put them in the right state of mind, with the adrenaline pumping through their veins, giving them at least that much extra reflexes.

Chris knocked loudly at the door.

"Paul Weasley? NYPD, we'd like to ask you some questions!"

Jensen didn't know if the amulet was in the apartment, but Weasley either had it or knew where it was. It was too big of a coincidence for him to be by the river. Jensen could bet that if he read his magical signature, he'd recognize it.

***

He actually expected the door to blow up in their faces. Not a mild mannered vampire opening the door and letting them in without a word. Jensen hesitated before entering, for obvious reasons, but when he stepped through the threshold, he didn't feel any sort of barier. No mortal was living here, apparently, and so no magic protected this place. He just hoped the rest would go as easily.

"You have to excuse me, Detectives, I'm just getting ready for work. So if you don't mind asking your questions while I'm getting dressed...?"

A quick glance at Christian proved to Jensen that his friend didn't expect that kind of approach either.

"Where were you on the evening of 23rd and the night of 25th?"

There was no hesitation or change in body language as Weasley put on his shirt and started to button it.

"I work nights. You can corroborate that with my employer, Ms. Dobrev. I can provide you with her contact information, if you like."

"No need, we have her information," Chris replied politely, as if talking to a witness not a suspect. Jensen figured it was for the best. It was never a good idea to antagonize a vampire.

"Mind if I use a bathroom?" Jensen asked, using the most ridiculous and most common reason to peek around ever. But the vampire just looked at him and nodded. Which made all warning bells Jensen had ring in full force.

He left Chris to ask the questions and moved further into the apartment.

When he disappeared from the view of the two other man he proceeded as quickly as possible. He located the bathroom and pointedly, and loudly, opened and closed the door. Keeping up appearances was the key. Hopefully he'd manage to do some recon before their suspect got suspicious...

He closed his eyes and took several even breaths, opening himself to the magic around him. A vampire was living here, so the whole experience would be very unpleasant, but only with his magical sight on, would he be able to see if the artifact everybody wanted was still here.

When he opened his eyes he swayed. Everything around him was dark and painful, there were brief colors that suggested other inhabitants, maybe visitors, but the auras were so weak, Jensen doubted they stayed long. He looked carefully at the walls, the floor, trying to see if there was any trace of anything even remotely resembling blood magic. There was blood alright. But not the kind Jensen was looking for.

He moved further down the hall, to the door that was darker and more painful to look at. The analytical part of Jensen's brain told him it was Weasley's bedroom. He carefully opened the door, paying extra attention not to make any sort of a sound. The moment door was opened wide enough for him to take a peek inside, he saw what he was looking for. There was an obvious blood magic trace, pulsing as if it was a beating heart.

Jensen shook his head to reorient himself in the normal environment and walked in, intent on grabing the artifact and making a run for it.

The vampire who entered the bedroom at that precise moment, from the ajoining bathroom took him completely by surprise.

He raised his shields almost on instinct, well aware, at the back of his mind, that the shield also appeared around Chris, and pushed. The vampire shrieked as she hit the walls, spouting profanities at him. He used the few seconds the spell gave him to grab the amulet from the box it was in. He felt actual physical pain, but he resisted the need to drop the object. He slipped it into the pocket of his coat. He heard gun shots and shouting in hall.

Kane.

His completely non magical detective friend, whose only protection from a vampire were bullets and one protective charm around his neck.

Jensen ran.

He saw Chris against the wall, Weasley inches from his neck, about to sink his teeth in. Without thinking he raised his hand and yelled. "Fuego!"

He felt the power surge and registered the flames that hit the vampire's back. He registered the pain that went through his arm, up to his chest, seemingly hitting the heart. He saw Chris duck away from the flames, or maybe he was being pushed away. Jensen wasn't sure, and he didn't have the chance to find out before the darkness took over.

***

Jensen woke up to an irritating beeping. He was confused and everything hurt. He tried opening his eyes, but when the sharp light hit him, he groaned.

"Hey, take it easy," he heard a soothing voice. He tried opening his eyes again.

"Jay... Jared?"

"That's me. You're okay. You're at the hospital. Doctors say you'll recover okay..."

How the hell did he get to the hospital? Why did everything hurt? Did Chris managed to get them out? Fuck, Chris! Fuck! The amulet!

He moved quickly to sit up but Jared's hands stopped him and pushed him gently, but firmly back onto the pillows.

"The amulet..."

"Tucked safely away until they release you from hospital, so it can be your problem again."

"And Chris? Is he..?"

"Kane's fine," Jared reassured him. "Only mild burns and he breathed a bit of smoke, but he'll be okay. Apparently he had the common sense not to walk into that mess without stationing his loyal rookie outside. Said rookie moved in and got you both out of the apartment right before the fire got too big to make it impossible."

"You... got us out?"

"Well I couldn't just let you die there. I like this thing we have going on."

"Thing?"

"You know... Where you play hard to get. Nobody ever did that before. Nobody could," at Jensen's confused expression Jared smiled honestly. "I'm not sure you realize that not many people can resist a White Court charm. People trip over themselves to please me even if I don't try... You on the other hand... You're different. And I like a challenge."

Jensen should be telling Jared that he was not a project the vampire could simply take on to see how long would it take to break Jensen. He was not a challenge. Jared would not be allowed to stalk Jensen like he'd been doing. He would not be allowed to smile and see that Jensen would just roll over for him. He hated to think he might.

But the morphine was kicking in. Reds would not be getting their hands on the artifact. Morgan wouldn't be able to gain any more power in the supernatural community and The Fae would probably have to wait before moving in on the City. So if all that meant having another coffee with Jared and maybe having that smile being directed at himself again...

Jensen was strangely okay with it. For now.

**Author's Note:**

> You can say it all started in October 2009 when I was bouncing ideas for the Bigbang off of [info]kubis. After a somewhat long discussion with her about who and why should be the wizard and who should be a dark, handsome but ultimately tragic White Court vampire, the roles were assigned and five minutes later, I had the very first sentence written in my head. I feel that that very first line "My name is Jensen Ackles and I'm a wizard. No, seriously" set the tone for the entire story.
> 
> There is a lot, that unfortunately didn't make it to the final story. Most of it, because of the heavy Jensen POV, which (while amazing and great to write) meant that nobody but Jared and me knew what was happening inside Jared's head. It's a pity, but I hope at least some of his real personality, what he's used to and how he is showed through.
> 
> Now, for those who noticed, yes, this story is very heavily based on Jim Butcher's The Dresden Files. But I wanted to make this universe my own. So it's not a complete fusion, there are differences, and some of you might notice them. I hope that those differences won't/didn't influence your enjoyment of the story as a whole. I took the Vampire Courts directly from the books. There is SI, and yes, that does make Kane a girl, but since Murphy is a very kick ass girl, I'm sure he doesn't mind. The Fae and magic itself is influenced by The Dresden Files, however I took a lot of liberties with it.
> 
> There are some questions that could be asked about certain plot points, certain characters that appear and their handling of situations. And I realize that some of those questions went unanswered. In certain cases it's because Jensen doesn't get an answer to those questions, and I didn't want to break his narrative just to smooth things out.
> 
> Not addressing Morgan's dealings with the Red Court in more details might irritate some people, but I really didn't want exposition to take over. Don't worry, I have their entire Plot for World Domination playing out in my head. They fail.
> 
> And if anybody has been wondering about Steve... Well... You keep wondering about Steve XD
> 
> Now, allow me to express my thanks to all the people that made this story possible.
> 
> [info]kubis - Thank you for being there from the very beginning. For answering random questions without any context. For replying to my text messages at weird hours of night and day. For asking over and over again if I'm writing. For cheerleading and for being the slave driver and for telling me I can do it, when I thought I couldn't.
> 
> [info]theantimodel - Thank you for picking my story within very first minutes of artist claims, which gave me additional boost of confidence when I really needed it. For giving the very first feedback which made a difference between me finishing the edits, and stalling as much as possible. And thank you for being my artist.
> 
> [info]beadslut - Thank you for being the most amazing beta in the entire universe. You basically made half of this fic better, more awesome and you should be listed as a co-author. Thanks for random conversation on AIM, replying to random emails, mixing the corrections and questions in the text with possitive feedback and for deciding to edit my story.
> 
> I also want to thank [info]noelia_g for understanding my pain, fixing final typos and being supportive, [info]wendy for making this bigbang happen, [info]thehighwaywoman for making this bigbang happen AND telling me how excited she was about my fic. I want to thank every single person who commented on my teaser telling me they are intrigued by the idea and all the people who told me they are waiting for my posting day. Well, guess what guys: It's today. And I hope you enjoyed reading the fic as much as I loved writing it.


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